Swelter! A village, scattered over the hills. Young married women and lassies in scant garb are washing down the river. The old men, sitting in front of the pub in the square, are looking at them, which, despite the waning sexuality, makes their mouths water. A strange countrywoman hangs about among the bursting flesh and ostensibly washes. But she gives herself away and it becomes obvious, that she is not a woman at all, but a Peeping Tom; gets a good thrashing and is made a laughing-stock to the old men and their youthful yearnings.