Those glances proclaimed everything, the closest affection and complete self-bestowal for ever.
"Come in, Pierre," called Guillaume; "shake hands with these young men." The priest had remained near the door, overcome by a singular feeling of discomfort.

When his nephews had vigorously shaken hands with him, he sat down near the window apart from them, as if he felt out of his element there.
"Well, youngsters," said Guillaume, "where's Mere-Grand, and where's Marie ?" Their grandmother was upstairs in her room, they said; and Marie had taken it into her head to go marketing.

This, by the way, was one of her delights.

She asserted that she was the only one who knew how to buy new-laid eggs and butter of a nutty odour.

Moreover, she sometimes brought some dainty or some flowers home, in her delight at proving herself to be so good a housewife.
"And so things are going on well ?" resumed Guillaume.