"Do not thank me; the gift is not significant. Thousands of similar
flowers grow in the forest, and one has only to stoop and gather them."

He dared not reply that this bouquet, having been worn by her, was worth
much more to him than any other, but he thought it, and the thought
aroused in his mind a series of new ideas. As Reine had so readily
granted this first favor, was she not tacitly encouraging him to ask for
others? Was he dealing with a simple, innocent girl, or a village
coquette, accustomed to be courted? And on this last supposition should
he not pass for a simpleton in the eyes of this experienced girl, if he
kept himself at too great a distance. He remembered the advice of
Claudet concerning the method of conducting love-affairs smoothly with
certain women of the country. Whether she was a coquette or not, Reine
had bewitched him. The charm had worked more powerfully still since he
had been alone with her in this obscure hut, where the cooing of the wild
pigeons faintly reached their ears, and the penetrating odors of the
forest pervaded their nostrils. Julien's gaze rested lovingly on Reine's
wavy locks, falling heavily over her neck, on her half-covered eyes with
their luminous pupils full of golden specks of light, on her red lips,
on the two little brown moles spotting her somewhat decollete neck.
He thought her adorable, and was dying to tell her so; but when he
endeavored to formulate his declaration, the words stuck fast in his
throat, his veins swelled, his throat became dry, his head swam. In this
disorder of his faculties he brought to mind the recommendation of
Claudet: "One arm round the waist, two sounding kisses, and the thing is
done." He rose abruptly, and went up to the young girl:

"Since you have given me these flowers," he began, in a husky voice,
"will you also, in sign of friendship, give me your hand, as you gave it
to Claudet?"