"Look!" she cried, detaching the bubble, apparently enchanted to see it float upward. "Is it not beautiful, my fairy balloon?"
On her knees there beside the basin she blew bubble after bubble, detaching each with a slight movement of her wrist, and laughing delightedly to see them mount into the sunshine.
"You are a child," he said, worrying his red underlip with his teeth. "You're a baby, after all."
She said:
"Very well, then, children require toys to amuse them, not sighs and kisses and bold, brown eyes to frighten and perplex them. Have you any toys to amuse me if I give you an hour with me?"[pg 335]
"Maryette, I can easily teach you——"
"No! Will you bring me a toy to amuse me?—a clay pipe to blow bubbles? I adore bubbles."
"If I promise to amuse you, will you give me an hour?" he asked.
"How can I?" she demanded with sudden caprice. "I have my wash to finish; then I have to see that my father has his soup; then I must attend to customers at the inn, go up to the belfry, oil the machinery, play the carillon later, wind the drum for the night——"
"I shall come to you in the tower after the angelus," he said eagerly.