"Oh, don't take me away. Please, sir, don't take me away." I began to sob.
"Now, little chap," he said, kindly enough, "you won't be unhappy with me. I don't whip children, and you'll have the dogs for company. Why should you be sorry to go with me?"
"Mother Barberin!..."
"Anyhow, you're not going to stay here," said Barberin roughly, taking me by the ear. "Go with this gentleman or go to the workhouse. Choose!"
"No, no. Mamma! Mamma!"
"So, you're going to make me mad, eh!" cried Barberin. "I'll beat you good and hard and chase you out of the house."
"The child is sorry to leave his mamma, don't beat him for that. He's got feelings, that's a good sign."
"If you pity him he'll cry all the more."
"Well, now to business."
Saying that, Vitalis laid eight five franc pieces on the table, which Barberin with a sweep of his hand cleared up and thrust into his pocket.