Germain was deeply moved, and tried to think of something to say to
little Marie to express the esteem and gratitude she inspired in him,
but he could find nothing that would give voice to his thoughts. He
approached her to kiss his son, whom she was still holding against her
breast, and it was hard for him to remove his lips from Petit-Pierre's
brow.
"You kiss him too hard," said Marie, gently pushing the ploughman's head
away, "you will wake him. Let me put him to bed again, for he has gone
back to his dreams of paradise."
The child let her put him down, but as he stretched himself out on the
goat-skin of the saddle, he asked if he were on Grise. Then, opening his
great blue eyes, and gazing at the branches for a moment, he seemed to
be in a waking dream, or to be impressed by an idea that had come into
his mind during the day and took shape at the approach of sleep. "Little
father," he said, "if you're going to give me another mother, I want it
to be little Marie."
And, without awaiting a reply, he closed his eyes and went to sleep.
X
DESPITE THE COLD
Little Marie seemed to pay no further heed to the child's strange words
than to look upon them as a proof of friendship; she wrapped him up
carefully, stirred the fire, and, as the mist lying upon the neighboring
pool gave no sign of lifting, she advised Germain to lie down near the
fire and have a nap.
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