Sitting down at the required distance on a gnarled root, right in the open, he went on with his work with no thought but for his art.
The inevitable happened.

Growing impatient over some difficulty in his sketch, Lampron shuffled his feet; a twig broke, some leaves rustled-Jeanne turned round and saw me looking at her, Lampron sketching her.
What are the feelings of a young girl who in the middle of a forest suddenly discovers that two pairs of eyes are busy with her?
A little fright at first; then--when the idea of robbers is dismissed, and a second glance has shown her that it is her beauty, not her life, they want--a touch of satisfied vanity at the compliment, not unmixed with confusion.
This is exactly what we thought we saw.

At first she slightly drew back, with brows knitted, on the verge of an exclamation; then her brows unbent, and the pleasure of finding herself admired, confusion at being taken unawares, the desire of appearing at ease, all appeared at once on her rosy cheeks and in her faintly troubled smile.
I bowed.

Sylvestre pulled off his cap.
M.Charnot never stirred.
"Another squirrel ?" he said.
"Two this time, I think, father," she answered, in a low voice.
He went on reading.
"'My guest,' made answer the fair Nausicaa, 'for I call thee so since thou seemest not base nor foolish, it is Zeus himself that giveth weal to men--'" Jeanne was no longer listening.

She was thinking.