"Ah! Nelle, how happy we were in those days when we could clasp hands
behind a hedge, and sometimes, too, I stole a kiss when your head was
turned away."

"That's true, Tobias, but afterwards, I did not turn my head away and
you kissed me all the same."

"There is no greater happiness on earth, my Dolf," said Riekje, "than to
grow old loving one another; the years don't then gloom as life
lengthens, and when one dies, the other soon follows."

"It is so, Riekje. If my old father dies first, I shall say to the
gravedigger, 'Dig a big hole, sexton, for my mother will lie there
too.'"

"Ah! heart of me!" cried Riekje, clasping her husband in her arms, "I
shall say the same thing to the sexton if you die first, my Dolf."

The fire roared in the stove, and the candles, which were nearly burned
down, gave a flickering light. Nelle had forgotten to snuff the wicks
and the thieves which fell into the tallow made it drop in big yellow
tears. In the ruddy light, which widened in circles like water where a
stone has fallen, the little narrow cabin seemed a paradise because of
the happy hearts which were in it.

The rough head of the old man, with his prominent cheek-bones, his gray
beard, his shaven lips, and ears pierced with gold rings, stood out the
color of smoked salmon, against the brown wall. Near him sat Nelle. Her
back was turned to the candles, and now and again, when she moved her