Yes, yes!…

YNIOLD.

She is pale, little father.

GOLAUD.

Ah! ah!… patience, my God, patience!…

YNIOLD.

What, little father?

GOLAUD.

Nothing, nothing, my child.—I saw a wolf go by in the forest.—Then they get on well together?—I am glad to learn they are on good terms.—They kiss each other sometimes—No?…

YNIOLD.