“Then you believe what your Grandmother tells you?”
“I believe in what convinces me.”
“Exactly like me,” he said, taking off his cap. “Is it criminal in your eyes to take apples?”
“Not criminal, perhaps, but not good manners.”
“I make you a present of them,” he said, handing her the remaining four apples and taking another bite out of his own.
He raised his cap once more and bid her an ironic good-day.
“You have a double beauty, you are beautiful to look at and sensible into the bargain. It is a pity that you are destined to adorn the life of an idiot. You will be given away, poor girl.”
“No pity, if you please. I shall not be given away like an apple.”
“You remember the apples; many thanks for the gift. I will bring you books in exchange, as you like books.”
“Proudhon?”