Then I lay back in my chair, regretting, I recollect, that, as my luggage was left at Avranches, I had not a clean shirt to fight in; and then, becoming drowsy, I began to stare idly along the road in front of the window, rehearsing the events of the last few days in my mind, but coming back to Marie Delhasse.
So an hour passed away.

Then I rose and stretched myself, and gave a glance out of the window to see if we were likely to have a fine evening for our sport, for clouds had been gathering up all day.

And when I had made up my mind that the rain would hold off long enough for our purpose, I looked down at the road again, and there I saw two figures which I knew.
From the direction of Pontorson came Jacques Bontet the inn-keeper, slouching along and smoking a thin black cigar.
"Ah! he has been to deliver the note to our friends the officers," said I to myself.
And then I looked at the other familiar figure, which was that of Mme.
Delhasse.

She wore the bonnet and cloak which had been lying on the bed in her room at the time of my intrusion.

She was just leaving the premises of the inn strolling, nay dawdling, along.