“When I heard someone coming behind me,” said the girl, “I thought at first ’twas monsieur.”
“Monsieur! what monsieur?” inquired Auguste.
“Pardi! monsieur le bourgeois, my master.”
“Ah! Monsieur de la Thomassinière?”
“Why, yes.”
“So he comes into his orchard sometimes, does he?”
“Oh, yes! he comes here.”
“Does he like apricots?”
“Oh, yes! apricots, and something else.”
“Does he take hold of your leg too, my child?”