“Yes. Talk with him; I am going to see my geraniums. But do not be sad, you know I forbid you that.”
“No, no, my dear friend, no!”
This tender and simple appellation seemed to charm the young man; and after the departure of his friend, approaching the blind man, he said,
“You are very fond of Mr. Desgranges?”
“Fond of him!” cried the blind man, with impetuosity; “he saved me from ruin, sir. It was all over with me; the thought of my children consumed me; I was dying because I could not see. He saved me.”
“With assistance—with money?”
“Money! what is money? Everybody can give that. Yes, he clothed us, he fed us, he obtained a subscription of five hundred francs (about one hundred dollars) for me; but all this was as nothing; he did more—he cured my heart!”
“But how?”
“By his kind words, sir. Yes, he, a person of so much consequence in the world, he came every day into my poor house, he sat on my poor stool, he talked with me an hour, two hours, till I became quiet and easy.”
“What did he say to you?”