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And he thought that Rainette had very pretty eyes: and he thought that he had brought tears into them. He could not bear that. He turned and went across to the stationer's. The window was still a little open: and he thrust his head inside and called in a whisper: "Rainette." She did not reply. "Rainette. I beg your pardon." From the darkness came Rainette's voice, saying: "Beast! I hate you."
As he was passing on his way home from the works, trying to make himself as small as possible among the bookbinders in their long working-blouses like nightgowns busy merry young women whose hungry eyes stripped him as he passed, how eagerly he would scamper away to Rainette's window!
Outside the night was so fair, so sweet!... The little cripple murmured: "How good it will be when one is dead!" He could hear Rainette's soft breathing. He said: "Good-night, little one." Tenderly came Rainette's voice: "Good-night." He went away comforted. He was glad that Rainette had forgiven him.
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