nearly noon
A sheep path ran through ; and after a little while a few trees loomed shadowy in the mist , and a low stone house took shape , whitewashed , flanked by barn , pigpen , and a stack of rotting seaweed . A few wet hens wandered aimlessly by the doorstep ; a tiny bed of white clove-pinks and tall white phlox exhaled a homely welcome as the lame man hobbled up the steps , pulled the leather latchstring , and entered . In the kitchen an old Breton woman , chopping herbs , looked up at him out of aged eyes , shaking her head under its white coiffe . `` It is nearly noon , '' she said . `` You have been out since dawn . Was it wise , for a convalescent , Monsieur Jacques ? '' `` Very wise , Marie-Josephine .