"That's it, we'll see.
When your son Antoine becomes a prefect, and I have twelve peasant
daughters ready, I'll invite you to their weddings, for it's your mill
that ought to be rebuilt, you know, and provided with a fine engine, so
as to grind all the corn of my property yonder, left and right,
everywhere!"
The sweep of his arm embraced such a far expanse of ground that the
miller, who did not like to be derided, almost lost his temper. He lashed
his horse with his whip, and the cart jolted on again through the ruts.
"Wheat in the ear is not wheat in the mill," said he. "Au revoir, and
good luck to you, all the same."
"Thanks, au revoir."
Then, while the children still ran about, seeking early primroses among
the mosses, Mathieu came and sat down beside Marianne, who, he saw, was
quivering. He said nothing to her, for he knew that she possessed
sufficient strength and confidence to surmount, unaided, such fears for
the future as threats might kindle in her womanly heart. But he simply
set himself there, so near her that he touched her, looking and smiling
at her the while. And she immediately became calm again and likewise
smiled, while little Gervais, whom the words of the malicious could not
as yet disturb, nursed more eagerly than ever, with a purr of rapturous
satisfaction.
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