Since the dawn of time people had relied on sheep to provide wool to keep them warm, and meat to feed them. Sheep were the animals which fulfilled all their needs, and especially the Bizets, plump and healthy and never troubled by mange, hardy beasts that could be kept almost all year round without hay. So the disappearance of so many of them was like a leak in a boat that was drifting out to sea. Powerless to stop it, the women felt as if they were sliding into the abyss a little more every day. The men, the sheep, all these beings swallowed by the night, were a sign that the world was abandoning them. Not only did they feel guilty for going on living without the men, but, worse, they sometimes had thoughts of the flesh without really thinking about their husbands. They could not help the sin of feeling desire deep within them, and at night they sometimes rubbed themselves against the sheets. Little by little, they became convinced that they were living in sin, without the assent of God. The fever that flowed in their blood was a poison that took over their bodies. Yet all those hours spent working, embracing the plough, their breasts pressed against the iron handles, all that expended energy flooded them with fatigue, as lovemaking did. Every evening they stopped work as if being released from the arms of a lover. But if their toil helped to quell their longings, it in no way fulfilled the need to be caressed.