months. Gilberte waited until the veil of night smothered its last glimmers. Sometimes, the sun's reflections would linger on the motionless clouds. Then the darkness seemed to come from every side, to rise from the river, to fall from the overcast sky, to ooze from the earth in thick mists. Then Gilberte would go indoors.
But, one evening, at that murky moment of twilight, she saw, on the opposite slope, a human form issuing from a hollow among the rocks and vanishing behind a tree.
She would hardly have paid attention to it, if, on the next day, when her eyes turned in that direction on returning from her walk, she had not perceived, in the same place, the same form as on the day before: a man's figure, obviously, but so well hidden that it was impossible for her to distinguish the least detail of his face or dress.
On the day after that, he was not there; but he was there on the following day and almost every day afterwards.
