At the same time, Léonce Lesaunier savored his victory. He never thought he'd get a chance to acquire this so much desired farmland. Not since the children Lambert had come to their mother’s uncle seeking sanctuary. It's been 15 years. Lesaunier had seen the hopes for the acquisition of the old Mahut’s farmland fade away. Yes, he remembered with bitternes the times they came. She, 16-year-old but looking 12, thin and pale, him, 10-year-old, with dead eyes. Both of them walking on their naked feet, hanging rags tarnished with the oil of the factory where they used to work. Lesaunier had never known the circumstances of their coming, except that their mother, the niece of the old Mahut, was dead recently. Their father? He had probably deserted the home for a long time, throwning his familiy into extreme poverty and hastening his wife's death. The old Mahut had gotten soft on them, making them work with him on his farm. Then, he had found Martha a position as a housemaid at some family of the small bourgeoisie recommended by the old priest. He had also recognized the young Martial as his true heir. Today was time for Lesaunier to taste the sweetness of revenge. The young Lambert was more dumb than Lesaunier thought he was: selling a fertile land first, letting his wife be master finally. Lesaunier wasn't unaware of the look of contempt in his daughter’s eyes and the little incident with the ring. Léonie was cunning! If she really wanted to divorce later, she would make it. Lesaunier ventured to hope that his daughter would find a way both to divorce and to keep the land. After all, it was so easy to cheat Martial Lambert...