He held out his hand. She lets him squeeze hers. She would have wanted to speak and, without a doubt, tell him that she thanked him, that she trusted him... But she must have understood the futility of such words, because she remained silent. They left and crossed the thermal resort and the old village of Royat. The church clock struck half past eight. It was on a Saturday, August 15. The mountains rose under a bright sky. They did not exchange a single word. But Raoul did not stop apostrophizing it, gently, to himself. "Well, don't you hate me anymore, young lady with green eyes? Have you forgotten the offense the first time? And I have so much respect for you, that I don't want to remember her when I'm close to you. Come on, smile a little, because now you have the habit of thinking of me as your kindred spirit. You smile at your good spirit." She wasn't smiling. But he felt friendly and very close.
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