"I swear."
"Silence! some one is coming—not a word of this, it is a secret between us two. Rise, wipe your eyes, do as I do, and leave me."
And Bathilde began to laugh with a feverish nervousness that was frightful to see. Luckily it was only Buvat, and Boniface profited by his entrance to depart.
"Well, how are you?" asked the good man.
"Better, father—much better; I feel my strength returning; in a few days I shall be able to rise; but you, father, why do you not go to the office?"—Buvat sighed deeply.—"It was kind not to leave me when I was ill, but now I am getting better, you must return to the library, father."
"Yes, my child, yes," said Buvat, swallowing his sobs. "Yes, I am going."
"Are you going without kissing me?"
"No, my child, on the contrary."
"Why, father, you are crying, and yet you see that I am better!"
"I cry!" said Buvat, wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. "I, crying! If I am crying, it is only joy. Yes, I am going, my child—to my office—I am going."