No one was looking, and Grizel kissed her and then hurried on.
The carriage passed and repassed her.

There must have been a hundred of them, but in time they became one.

No sooner had it disappeared in dust in front of her than she heard the crack of its whip behind.
It was a glorious day of sweltering sun; but she was bewildered now, and did not open the umbrella with which she had shielded her head yesterday.

In the foreground was always the same white road, on both sides the same pine wood laughing with wild flowers, the same roaring white stream.

From somewhere near came the tinkle of cow-bells.