The cows lying down in the fields, overcome by the heat, raised their
heads heavily and lowed feebly at the two passers-by, as if to ask them
for some green grass.

When they got near the house, Honore Bontemps murmured: "Suppose it is
all over?" And his unconscious wish that it might be so showed itself in
the sound of his voice.

But the old woman was not dead. She was lying on her back, on her
wretched bed, her hands covered with a purple cotton counterpane,
horribly thin, knotty hands, like the claws of strange animals, like
crabs, half closed by rheumatism, fatigue and the work of nearly a
century which she had accomplished.

La Rapet went up to the bed and looked at the dying woman, felt her
pulse, tapped her on the chest, listened to her breathing, and asked her
questions, so as to hear her speak; and then, having looked at her for
some time, she went out of the room, followed by Honore. Her decided
opinion was that the old woman would not last till night. He asked:
"Well?" And the sick-nurse replied: "Well, she may last two days, perhaps
three. You will have to give me six francs, everything included."

"Six francs! six francs!" he shouted. "Are you out of your mind? I tell
you she cannot last more than five or six hours!" And they disputed
angrily for some time, but as the nurse said she must go home, as the
time was going by, and as his wheat would not come to the farmyard of its
own accord, he finally agreed to her terms.

"Very well, then, that is settled; six francs, including everything,