Once, only once during the meal, I saw a change come over her.

She coloured, I suppose at her thoughts, until her face flamed from brow to chin.

I watched the blush spread and spread; and then she slowly and proudly turned her shoulder to me and looked through the window at the shabby street.
I suppose that she and her brother had both built on this attempt, which must have been arranged at Auch.

For when we went on in the afternoon, I marked a change in them.

They rode like people resigned to the worst.
The grey realities of the position, the dreary future began to hang like a mist before their eyes, began to tinge the landscape with sadness, robbed even the sunset of its colours.