But Gilbert munched part of the roll while strolling; he washed down the rest at the public fountain, washed his hands and sauntered home.
"By my faith, I believe that I am happier than Diogenes and have found an honest man," thought Rousseau.
The day passed in uninterrupted labor. At even Gilbert had turned out seven pages of copy—if not elegant, faultless. He tested in his hand the money received for it with ardent satisfaction.
"You are my master," he said, "since I find work in your place and you give me lodgings gratis. I should therefore lay myself open to be badly thought of by you if I acted without consulting you."
"What," said Rousseau, frightened; "what are you going to do? Going off elsewhere to work?"
"No, only I want a holiday, with your leave, to-morrow."
"To idle?"
"No, to go to St. Denis to see the dauphiness arrive."
"I thought you scorned the pomps of this worldly show," said Rousseau. "I, though an obscure citizen, despised the invitation of these great people to be of the reception party."