A touch on the arm awakened me. I opened my eyes, but could see nothing.
“Are you here, Monsieur?” a voice whispered. “Speak to me.”
“I was asleep,” I said. “Is it thou, La Bancale?”
“Oh, do not call me by that hideous name,” she sobbed.
“What shall I call you, then, my dear?”
“Anything, anything you like, Monsieur, only not that.”
“But have you no other name? Surely, you were not always called that!”
“Always, Monsieur,” she sobbed. “Ever since I can remember.”
Poor child! And she might have been a girl, happy like any other!
“Let me see,” I said, “I will call you Ninon. I have a sister named Ninon. I am sure you would love her.”