There were tree-toads everywhere, responding to one another in different tones; even those which were under their bench, close by them, reassured by their immobility, sang also from time to time; then that little sound, brusque and soft, so near, made them start and smile.

All the exquisite, surrounding obscurity was animated by that music, which continued in the distance, in the mystery of the leaves and of the stones, in the depths of all the small, black holes of rocks or walls; it seemed like chivies in miniature, or rather, a sort of frail concert somewhat mocking--oh! not very mocking, and without any maliciousness--led timidly by inoffensive gnomes.

And this made the night more living and more loving-- After the intoxicated audacities of the first nights, fright took a stronger hold of them, and, when one of them had something special to say, one led the other by the hand without talking; this meant that they had to walk softly, softly, like marauding cats, to an alley behind the house where they could talk without fear.
"Where shall we live, Gracieuse ?" asked Ramuntcho one night.
"At your house, I had thought." "Ah! yes, so thought I--only I thought it would make you sad to be so far from the parish, from the church and the square--" "Oh--with you, I could find anything sad?
--" "Then, we would send away those who live on the first floor and take the large room which opens on the road to Hasparitz--" It was an increased joy for him to know that Gracieuse would accept his house, to be sure that she would bring the radiance of her presence into that old, beloved home, and that they would make their nest there for life--.