The work is ended.

Having lost its gloss, the last neglected fish lies on the ground; even the children are too lazy to pick it up; and an indifferent, satiated foot treads it into the mud.

A quiet, fatigued conversation goes on, mingled with gay and peaceful laughter.
"What kind of a prayer is our abbot going to say to-day?
It is already time for him to come." "And do you think it is so easy to compose a good prayer?
He is thinking." "Selly's basket broke and the fish were falling out.

We laughed so much! It seems so funny to me even now!" Laughter.

Two fishermen look at the sail in the distance.
"All my life I have seen large ships sailing past us.