However, Claudie's business did not seem to advance sensibly. "See here, thou doesn't tell me anything, sleepy head!" said she to him, whom she imagined to be the connecting link between herself and Kehlmark. "Has not the Count entrusted thee with a special message for me?" Guidon would invent some fiction, but often taken off his guard, he would give himself away or keep his mouth closed. The coarse-grained faggot then flew into a rage at her go-between's stupidity, and it itched her to cuff and brutalize him as in former days.
Through policy the Dykgrave continued his visits to Les Pèlerins and his attentions to the young farm-girl. She would have wished him more enterprising. He took a good deal of time to make up his mind to propose: he had hardly ventured to trifle with the tips of her fingers and never had he stolen a kiss!
No sooner did she hear the trotting of his horse and the yelping of his escort of setters, Claudie would run to the farm-door, almost taking pleasure in thus publicly advertising her love, so certain was she of success. Accordingly, people began to talk a good deal, in the evenings, of the Dykgrave's attentions to her.
