"There are days when I would like to strangle her!" There was no need to ask of whom he was speaking. "And the others?" asked Sabine gaily. "True," said Christophe, a little abashed. "There is Rosa." "Poor child!" said Sabine. They were silent. "If only it were always as it is now!" sighed Christophe. She raised her laughing eyes to his, and then dropped them. He saw that she was working. "What are you doing?" he asked. (The fence of ivy that separated the two gardens was between them.) "Look!" she said, lifting a basin that she was holding in heir lap. "I am shelling peas." She sighed. "But that is not unpleasant," he raid, laughing. "Oh!" she replied, "it is disgusting, always having to think of dinner." "I bet that if it were possible," he said, "you would go without your dinner rather than haw the trouble of cooking it." "That's true," cried she. "Wait! I'll come and help you." He climbed over the fence and came to her. She was sitting in a chair in the door. He sat on a step at her feet. He dipped into her lap for handfuls of green pods; and he poured the little round peas into the basin that Sabine held between her knees. He looked down. He saw Sabine's black stockings clinging to her ankles and feet--one of her feet was half out of its shoe. He dared not raise his eyes to look at her. The air was heavy. The sky was dull and clouds hung low: There was no wind. No leaf stirred. The garden was inclosed within high walls: there was no world beyond them. The child had gone out with one of the neighbors. They were alone. They said nothing. They could say nothing. Without looking he went on taking handfuls of peas from Sabine's lap: his fingers trembled as he touched her: among the fresh smooth pods they met Sabine's fingers, and they trembled too. They could not go on. They sat still, not looking at each other: she leaned back in her chair with her lips half-open and her arms hanging: he sat at her feet leaning against her: along his shoulder and arm he could feel the warmth of Sabine's leg. They were breathless. Christophe laid his hands against the stones to cool them: one of his hands touched Sabine's foot, that she had thrust out of her shoe, and he left it there, could not move it. They shivered. Almost they lost control. Christophe's hand closed on the slender toes of Sabine's little foot. Sabine turned cold, the sweat broke out on her brow, she leaned towards Christophe.... Familiar voices broke the spell. They trembled. Christophe leaped to his feet and crossed the fence again. Sabine picked up the shells in her lap and went in. In the yard he turned. She was at her door. They looked at each other. Drops of rain were beginning to patter on the leaves of the trees.... She closed her door. Frau Vogel and Rosa came in.... He went up to his room....