IX
"Well!" exclaimed Renée, entering the dining-room at eleven o'clock, breathless like a child who had been running, "I thought every one would be down. Where is mamma?"
"Gone to Paris—shopping," answered M. Mauperin.
"Oh!—and where's Denoisel?"
"He's gone to see the man with the sloping ground, who must have kept him to luncheon. We'll begin luncheon."
"Good-morning, papa!" And instead of taking her seat Renée went across to her father and putting her arms round his neck began to kiss him.
"There, there, that's enough—you silly child!" said M. Mauperin, smiling as he endeavoured to free himself.
"Let me kiss you tong-fashion—there—like that," and she pinched his cheeks and kissed him again.
"What a child you are, to be sure."