But one day in Paimpol, hearing that /La Marie/ had just got in, Gaudfelt possessed with a kind of fever. All her quiet composuredisappeared; she abruptly finished up her work, without quite knowingwhy, and set off home sooner than usual.

　　Upon the road, as she hurried on, she recognised /him/, at somedistance off, coming towards her. She trembled and felt her strengthgiving way. He was now quite close, only about twenty steps off, hishead erect and his hair curling out from beneath his fisher's cap. Shewas so taken by surprise at this meeting, that she was afraid shemight fall, and then he would understand all; she would die of veryshame at it. She thought, too, she was not looking well, but weariedby the hurried work. She would have done anything to be hidden awayunder the reeds or in one of the ferret-holes.

　　He also had taken a backward step, as if to turn in another direction.

　　But it was too late now. Both met in the narrow path. Not to touchher, he drew up against the bank, with a side swerve like a skittishhorse, looking at her in a wild, stealthy way.

　　She, too, for one half second looked up, and in spite of herselfmutely implored him, with an agonized prayer. In that involuntarymeeting of their eyes, swift as the firing of a gun, these gray pupilsof hers had appeared to dilate and light up with some grand noblethought, which flashed ............