'Can't you have your long discuss with me instead?' she asked.
He shook his head. 'You see,' he answered solemnly, 'it's about
things.'
'But Daddy's working just now; he'll be over to tea at four. Can't it
wait till then?'
She understood too well to inquire what 'things' might be. The boy
wished to speak with one of his own sex--as one man to another man.
'When a man's at work,' she added, 'he doesn't like to be disturbed.'
'All right,' was the reply. 'We can wait a little,' and he settled
down to other things in a corner by himself. His mind, clearly, was
occupied with grave considerations he could not discuss with anybody,
least of all with women and children. But, of course, busy men must
not be interrupted. For a whole hour in his corner he made no sound,
and hardly any movement.
But Daddy did not come at four o'clock. He was evidently deep in work.
And Mother did not send for him. The carpenter's wife, she knew, would
provide a cup of tea.
He came late to supper, too, at the Pension, nodded to Mother with an
expression which plainly said, 'I've finished the story at last';
winked to his cousin, meaning, 'It came out all right, I'm satisfied,'
and took his seat between Jinny and Mlle. Vuillemot, the governess who
had earned her meal by giving a music lesson that afternoon to a
_pensionnaire_.
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