A LONG DRIVE curves through the estate; it is covered with gravel. When the gypsies first arrived, the wheels of their caravans made a great crunching sound. But the drive has been silent for some time, now; it seems that no one comes and no one leaves; no visitors, no deliveries; nothing interrupts the dream-tedium of days folding in upon themselves, as contortionists do, here on the estate of the widow.
Madeleine rakes the gravel into the dustpan of her hands. By tying her spare drawers at the knees, she has turned them into a sack. As she trudges across the lawn, lugging her drawers behind her, Charlotte sticks her head out from a caravan and says, That looks terribly heavy.
It is! Madeleine replies.
She makes several trips. She remains mysterious.
But she cannot resist, in the midst of her labors, observing to Charlotte: I like to sleep when it's raining outside.