"One of these nights, when it is not cold."
"Have we far to go?"
"What! Already afraid of fatigue? We will make that all easy, but I must go now!"
"Where are you going?"
"Come now, Bobichel, none of that! I don't like questions, and I don't choose to be watched!"
And Robeccal walked off.
The clown looked after him, and then began to pound his own head until tears came to his eyes.
"Idiot! Fool!" he muttered. "Will you never learn any sense. Why did you let that rascal see your game? You must warn Fanfar without delay."
And as he saw some boys looking at him, they thinking that his despair heightened his comic appearance, he began to run toward the inn.