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He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, and although but recently come to the neighborhood he had a vague idea of her history. "Well," said he, "console yourself my boy, and come with me home to your mother. They will give you ... a Papa."
Simon answered nothing; and immovable in faith he defied them with his eye, ready to be martyred rather than fly before them. The schoolmaster came to his rescue and he returned home to his mother. For a space of three months, the tall workman, Philip, frequently passed by La Blanchotte's house, and sometimes made bold to speak to her when he saw her sewing near the window.
The sky was full of stars as he knocked at La Blanchotte's door. He had his Sunday blouse on, a fresh shirt, and his beard was trimmed. The young woman showed herself upon the threshold and said in a grieved tone: "It is ill to come thus when night has fallen, Mr. Phillip." He wished to answer, but stammered and stood confused before her.
He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, and although a recent arrival to the neighborhood he had a vague idea of her history. "Well," said he, "console yourself, my boy, and come with me home to your mother. She will give you a papa." And so they started on the way, the big one holding the little one by the hand.
He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, and, although himself a new arrival in the neighborhood, he had a vague idea of her history. "Well," said he, "console yourself, my boy, and come with me home to your mother. They will give you a papa."
La Blanchotte's little one bowed his head and went off dreaming in the direction of the forge belonging to old Loizon, where Philip worked. This forge was as though buried beneath trees. It was very dark there; the red glare of a formidable furnace alone lit up with great flashes five blacksmiths; who hammered upon their anvils with a terrible din.
And they did not care for him; so it was with a certain delight, mingled with considerable astonishment, that they met and repeated to each other what had been said by a lad of fourteen or fifteen who appeared to know all about it, so sagaciously did he wink. "You know Simon well, he has no papa." Just then La Blanchotte's son appeared in the doorway of the school.
During three months, the tall workman, Philip, frequently passed by La Blanchotte's house, and sometimes he made bold to speak to her when he saw her sewing near the window. She answered him civilly, always sedately, never joking with him, nor permitting him to enter her house.
He had recognized La Blanchotte's son, and, although himself a new arrival in the neighborhood, he had a vague idea of her history. "Well," said he, "console yourself, my boy, and come with me home to your mother. They will give you a papa."
La Blanchotte's little one bowed his head and went off dreaming in the direction of the forge belonging to old Loizon, where Philip worked. This forge was as though buried beneath trees. It was very dark there; the red glare of a formidable furnace alone lit up with great flashes five blacksmiths; who hammered upon their anvils with a terrible din.
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