put your feet near the fire; your skirts are all damp, too, poor little
girl! Let me take your place by the child, and do you warm yourself
better than that."

"I'm warm enough," said Marie; "if you want to sit down, take a corner
of the cloak; I am very comfortable."

"To tell the truth, we're not badly off here," said Germain, seating
himself close beside her. "The only thing that troubles me now is
hunger. It must be nine o'clock, and I had such hard work walking in
those wretched roads, that I feel all fagged out. Aren't you hungry,
too, Marie?"

"I? Not at all. I'm not used to four meals a day as you are, and I have
been to bed without supper so many times, that once more doesn't worry
me much."

"Well, a wife like you is a great convenience; she doesn't cost much,"
said Germain, with a smile.

"I am not a wife," said Marie artlessly, not perceiving the turn the
ploughman's ideas were taking. "Are you dreaming?"

"Yes, I believe I am dreaming," was Germain's reply; "perhaps it's
hunger that makes my mind wander."

"What a gourmand you must be!" she rejoined, brightening up a little in
her turn; "well, if you can't live five or six hours without eating,
haven't you some game in your bag, and fire to cook it with?"