there?”
“No, I am just going there to see the town.”
“How?” the peasant blinked at him stupidly, uncomprehendingly. “You have business there?”
“No. I am going just to visit—to see the place.”
“How?” the peasant said stupidly in a moment, looking at him. “I do not understand.”
“The gentleman says he is going to see the town,” the girl broke in furiously. “Can’t you understand anything?”
“I do not understand what he is saying,” the old man said to her. “He does not speak French.”
“He speaks very well,” the girl said angrily. “I understand him very well. It is you who are stupid—that’s all.”
The peasant was silent for some time now, puffing at his cigarette, and looking at the young man with friendly, puzzled eyes.
“America is very large—eh?” he said at length, making a wide gesture with his hands.
“Yes, it is very large. Much larger than France.”
“How?” the peasant said again with a puzzled, patient look. “I do not understand.”
“He says America is much larger than France,” the girl cried in an exasperated tone. “I understand all he says.”
Then, for several minutes, there was an awkward silence: nothing was said. The peasant smoked his cigarette, seemed on the point of speaking several times, looked puzzled and said nothing. Outside, rain had begun to fall in long slanting lines across the fields, and beyond, in the grey blown sky, there was a milky radiance where the sun should be, as if it were trying to break through. When the peasant saw this, he brightened, and leaning forward to the young man in a friendly manner, he tapped him on the knee with one of his great, stiff fingers, and then pointing towards the sun, he said very slowly and distinctly, as one might instruct a child:
“Le so-leil.”
And the young man obediently repeated the word as the peasant had said it:
“Le so-leil.”
The old man and his wife beamed delightedly and nodded their approval, saying, “Yes. Yes. Good. Very good.” Turning to his wife for confirmation, the old man said: “He said it very well, didn’t he?”
