"Then, so much the better; we have not done what brother Martial forbids, and we have fine handkerchiefs."
"I say, Amandine, if he knew that the other day Calabash made you take that handkerchief from the peddler's pack, when his back was turned!"
"Oh, Francois, do not speak of that!" said the poor child, whose eyes were filled with tears: "brother Martial would love me no more. He would leave us all alone here."
"Don't be afraid, I will not tell him," he said, laughing.
"Oh, don't laugh at that. Francois; I am sorry enough; but I had to do it. Sister pinched me till the blood came, and then she looked at me so—so! and yet twice my heart failed me; I thought I could never do it. Finally, the peddler saw nothing, and sister kept the kerchief. If he had seen me, Francois, they would have put me in prison."
"They did not see you; it is just the same as if you had not stolen."
"You think so?"
"Of course!"
"And in prison, how unhappy one must be!"
"On the contrary."