“Let him trample.”
“Monsieur, I tell you I’ll yell if——”
The sound of a kiss interrupted the peasant, and echoed in Denise’s heart. She had heard it all, and she did not stir. This first victory would perhaps have been followed by a second, had not Coco’s voice made itself heard; he ran toward Auguste, whom he had just caught sight of, shouting at the top of his lungs:
“Here’s my kind friend! Good-day, my kind friend! Have you come to play with me?”
When he heard the child’s voice, Auguste left the peasant and went to meet him, while she walked away, saying to herself:
“It’s mighty lucky the little fellow came, all the same; for it wa’n’t no use for me to fight—he kept right on! Jarni! what a scamp he is!”
Auguste took the child in his arms, kissed him, and received his caresses with keen enjoyment.
“You weren’t at the house, Coco,” he said; “I found nobody there. Don’t you live there now?”
“No, I’m with my little Denise all the time now; since Grandma Madeleine died, I’ve lived with Denise. I’m awful happy now, ‘cos she loves me ever so much; she loves me as much as Jacqueleine.”
Wiping her eyes, to which the tears had risen, the girl left the great tree and walked toward Auguste, trying to assume a laughing expression.