“Is it for to-day?”
“No, I don’t think so,” she replied. “I dreamt I had a boy: he was already very tall and wore adorable little black moustachios. Uncle Lazare told me yesterday that he also had seen him in a dream.”
I acted very stupidly.
“I know the child better than you do,” I said. “I see it every night. It’s a girl——”
And as Babet turned her face to the wall, ready to cry, I realised how foolish I had been, and hastened to add:
“When I say a girl—I am not quite sure. I see a very small child with a long white gown.—it’s certainly a boy.”
Babet kissed me for that pleasing remark.
“Go and look after the vintage,” she continued, “I feel calm this morning.”
“You will send for me if anything happens?”
“Yes, yes, I am very tired: I shall go to sleep again. You’ll not be angry with me for my laziness?”