He comes up to me, where I am sitting and reading, and presses himself against me. I do not look at him, but I can perceive what is going on inside him.
"What did you buy at the baker's?"
"Lollipops."
"Well, I never! What fun! Why, you had some lollipops this morning. Who gave you the money this time?"
"Petrine."
"Really! Well, Petrine is certainly very fond of you. Do you remember the lovely ball she gave you on your birthday?"
"Father, Petrine told me to buy a cent's worth of biscuits."
"Oh, dear!"
It is very quiet in the room. My little boy cries bitterly and I look anxiously before me, stroking his hair the while.
"Now you have fooled Petrine badly. She wants those biscuits, of course, for her cooking. She thinks they're on the kitchen-table and, when she goes to look, she won't find any. Mother gave her a cent for biscuits. Petrine gave you a cent for biscuits and you go and spend it on lollipops. What are we to do?"