"Will you be my papa?"
A deep silence ensued. La Blanchotte, dumb and tortured with shame, leaned against the wall, her hands upon her heart. The child, seeing that no answer was made him, replied:
"If you do not wish it, I shall return to drown myself."
The workman took the matter as a jest and answered laughing:
"Why, yes, I wish it certainly."
"What is your name, then," went on the child, "so that I may tell the others when they wish to know your name?"
"Philip," answered the man.
Simon was silent a moment so that he might get the name well into his memory; then he stretched out his arms, quite consoled, and said:
"Well, then, Philip, you are my papa."
The workman, lifting him from the ground, kissed him hastily on both cheeks, and then strode away quickly.