"Flowers do know many things--that is certain." "Ask them for yourself." "Ask them what ?" "How much--any one--loves you ?" "Oh, but every one loves me; there is no one that is bad.

Antoine used to say to me.

'Never think of yourself, Bebee; always think of other people, so every one will love you.' And I always try to do that, and every one does." "But that is not the love the daisy tells of to your sex." "No ?" "No; the girls that you see count the flowers--they are thinking, not of all the village, but of some one unlike all the rest, whose shadow falls across theirs in the moonlight! You know that ?" "Ah, yes--and they marry afterwards--yes." She said it softly, musingly, with no embarrassment; it was an unreal, remote thing to her, and yet it stirred her heart a little with a vague trouble that was infinitely sweet.
There is little talk of love in the lives of the poor; they have no space for it; love to them means more mouths to feed, more wooden shoes to buy, more hands to dive into the meagre bag of coppers.

Now and then a girl of the commune had been married, and had ploughing in the fields or to her lace-weaving in the city.

Bebee had thought little of it.
"They marry or they do not marry.