Several years passed. Though she longed to feel again the electricity in that well remembered glance, she gave up hoping that it would ever happen again.

In time she finished her studies in Spain, and returned to her village in Bordeaux. Meanwhile, Guillaume had returned to France and was coming to spend the weekend in the same little village where the young brunette with gray green eyes had bewitched him so long ago. Why was he returning she wondered? Would they meet again? Would they meet when he was out for a stroll—or would he come looking for her?

He found her seated, as was her habit, between the rows of vines in her imaginary “clos”.