" If, at half-past ten, some one absent-mindedly pulled
out a watch and said, "I say, an hour-and-a-half still before luncheon,"
everyone else would be in ecstasies over being able to retort at once:
"Why, what are you thinking about? Have you for-gotten that it's
Saturday?" And a quarter of an hour later we would still be laughing, and
reminding ourselves to go up and tell aunt Leonie about this absurd
mistake, to amuse her. The very face of the sky appeared to undergo a
change. After luncheon the sun, conscious that it was Saturday, would
blaze an hour longer in the zenith, and when some one, thinking that we
were late in starting for our walk, said, "What, only two o'clock!"
feeling the heavy throb go by him of the twin strokes from the steeple of
Saint-Hilaire (which as a rule passed no one at that hour upon the
highways, deserted for the midday meal or for the nap which follows it, or
on the banks of the bright and ever-flowing stream, which even the angler
had abandoned, and so slipped unaccompanied into the vacant sky, where
only a few loitering clouds remained to greet them) the whole family would
respond in chorus: "Why, you're forgetting; we had luncheon an hour
earlier; you know very well it's Saturday.
Pages:
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213