Continuous crunching, while the child knocks the remaining crust against the wall to get the sand out of it, the dirt of the paving-stone.
"What's your name?"
"Fouchette."
"Fouchette? Fouchette what?"
"Nothing, ma'm'selle,—just Fouchette."
"Where do you live, Fouchette? Do throw that dirty bread away, child!"
"Say, now, ma'm'selle, do you see anything green in my eye?"
The young woman seriously inspects the blue eye that is rolled up at her and shakes her head.
"N-no; I don't see anything."
"Very well," said Fouchette, continuing her attack on the slowly dissolving crust.