“Mamma!” said Josephine, consciously.
“Does he never say a word?”
“Why, yes.”
“Now, what does he say?”
“Mamma, how can I remember?”
“Well, try, Josephine.”
“He said that now the leaves were on the trees he could not see so far as he used to. That before, he could see our house from the Côte Rouge, but not now.”
“Well, and what else?”
“Mamma, how can I remember? He said that the birds had their nests all built now. He said that he wondered if any birds boarded out; that he had boarded out for ten years. Mamma, what are you laughing at? How cruel!”
“My little José, the dear timid one is in love.”