They gave the smallest hamlets music to last them for a year and slept at night in a barn, refusing a bed at the inn, lying close together on the straw, as when they were so poor in Sweden.

At the same time, they were very neatly dressed, made no collection, refused the halfpence offered them; and the people around could not understand the conduct of this rustic fiddler, who tramped the roads with that pretty child who sang like an angel from Heaven.
They followed them from village to village.
One day, a little boy, who was out with his governess, made her take a longer walk than he intended, for he could not tear himself from the little girl whose pure, sweet voice seemed to bind him to her.

They came to the shore of an inlet which is still called Trestraou, but which now, I believe, harbors a casino or something of the sort.

At that time, there was nothing but sky and sea and a stretch of golden beach.

Only, there was also a high wind, which blew Christine's scarf out to sea.