is with the soul that we approach each other there. Then she will know who has loved her best. That is why I am so contented. Who knows what may happen up there?’

Ma’me Antoine could not answer. She only took her son’s big, rough hand and pressed it against her.

‘And now, ma mère,’ he exclaimed, cheerfully, rising, ‘I shall go light the fire for your bread; it is a long time since I have done anything for you,’ and he stooped and pressed a warm kiss on her withered old cheek.

With misty eyes she watched him walk away in the direction of the big brick oven that stood open-mouthed under the lemon trees.