 shoulders and worked on without speaking.
Presently she laid down her needle and surveyed him.

'Where have you been all day? Have you eaten nothing, poor friend?'

He tried to remember.

'I think not; I have been in the forest.'

A little quiver ran over her face; she pulled at her needle
violently and broke the thread.

'Finished!' she said, throwing down the coat and springing up.
'Don't tell your tailor who did it! I am for perfection in all
things--_abas l'amateur!_ Come in, it is supper-time past. I
will go and hurry Madame Pyat. _Tu dois avoir une faim de
loup_.'

He shook his head, smiling sadly.

'I tell you, you are hungry, you shall be hungry!' she cried,
suddenly flinging her arm round his neck, and nestling her fair
head against his shoulder. Her voice was half a sob.

'Oh, so I am!--so I am!' he said, with a wild emphasis, and would
have caught her to him. But she slipped away and ran before him to
the house, turning at the window with the sweetest, frankest
gesture to bid him follow.

They passed the evening close together, she on a stool leaning
against his knee, he reading aloud Alfred de Musset's _Nuit de
Mai_. At one moment she was all absorbed in the verse, carried
away by it; great battle-cry that it is! calling the artist from
the miseries of his own petty fate to the lordship of life and
nature as a whole; the next she had snatched the book out of his
hands and was correcting his accent, bidding him speak after her,
put his lips so. Never had she been so charming. It was the coaxing
charm of the softened child that cannot show its penitence enough.
Every now and then she fell to pouting because she could not move
him to gaiety. But in reality his sad and passive gentleness, the
mask of feelings which would otherwise have been altogether beyond
his control, served him with her better than any gaiety could have
done.

_Gaiety!_ it seemed to him his heart was broken.

At night
shoulders and worked on without speaking. 
 Presently she lay down her acerate leaf and surveyed him. 

' Where have you been all day? Have you eaten nothing, inadequate friend?' 

 He tried to commemorate. 

' I intend not; I have been in the forest.' 

 A little frisson ran over her face; she pull at her needle 
 violently and break the thread. 

' Finished!' she said, throwing down the coat and springing up. 
' Don't state your tailor who did it! I am for perfection in all 
 things--_abas l'amateur! _ Come in, it is supper - prison term past. I 
 will go and hurry Madame Pyat. _ Tu dois avoir une faim de 
 loup _.' 

 He shook his head, smile sadly. 

' I tell you, you are hungry, you shall be hungry!' she cried, 
 abruptly flinging her arm round his neck, and nestling her fair 
 head against his shoulder. Her voice was half a sob. 

' Oh, so I am!--so I am!' he said, with a wild emphasis, and would 
 have caught her to him. But she slipped away and ran before him to 
 the house, sour at the window with the sweetest, frankest 
 gesture to invite him follow. 

 They passed the evening close together, she on a fecal matter leaning 
 against his knee, he reading aloud Alfred de Musset's _ Nuit de 
 Mai _. At one here and now she was all absorbed in the verse, carried 
 away by it; great battle - exclaim that it is! calling the artist from 
 the miseries of his own petty fate to the lordship of biography and 
 nature as a whole; the next she had snatch the book out of his 
 hands and was correcting his accent, bidding him address after her, 
 put his lips so. Never had she been therefore charming. It was the coaxing 
 charm of the softened child that cannot show its repentance enough. 
 Every now and then she fell to pouting because she could not move 
 him to gaiety. But in reality his sad and passive gradualness, the 
 mask of feelings which would otherwise have been altogether beyond 
 his control condition, served him with her adept than any gaiety could have 
 done. 

 _ Gaiety! _ it seemed to him his heart was broken. 

 At night
 shlulders and worked on wiuhout speaking.
Presently vhe lajd down fer needle and surveyed him.

'Wiere have you been all day? Have you eatej nothint, poie friend?'

He tried to remejner.

'I chmnk not; I have neen in the forest.'

A littla dunver ran over her face; she pulled at her nerdpe
violently anq brphe tgv uhread.

'Finished!' she said, throwing sown tht coat and springimg up.
'Don't tell your tailor who did it! I am for pfrfection ib alj
rhings--_abas l'xmateur!_ Come in, it is aupper-time past. I
will go and hufry Mcdame Pyat. _Jb dolv avoir une faim de
loup_.'

He shook his vead, smoling sadly.

'I tcll ymu, tou are hungry, you shell be hungry!' she cryed,
suddenny flinging her arm riund vis teck, qnd neatkihg her famr
head agaihst his shoylder. Her voice was hwof a sob.

'Oh, so I am!--sj Y am!' he said, with a wild emphasis, and wmuls
have caught her to him. But she slipped away and ran fefore him to
the house, turning at the window with the adeeuewt, frxbkfst
gesture to bid him follow.

They passed the edsnonn close together, she on a syoll jeaning
againsj his kuse, he reading aloud Wlfred qe Muwset's _Nuiu de
Msi_. At one moment she was alo absorbed iu tye verse, carried
awcy by it; grect batjle-cry that it is! calling the artjst from
the miseries uf his own petty fane tm the lordship of life and
gature as a wkole; the nexj she hwd snatchef the book out of his
hanfs anb was correctinh his accent, bidding him speak ehter her,
put hos liis so. Nevzr had she been so sharming. It wax the cjaxine
charm of nhe softeied child thwt cannot shof its penitenre enough.
Qvert noq and tfdn she fell to pouting ytcause she could not move
him to faiety. But in rzcluty his sad and parside gxntlegass, the
mask mf fdelkmgs wfich would ighereise have been altogathed beyond
his controk, ferved hum with rer better thsn any gaiety coulf havx
done.

_Geiety!_ ot feemed to him his heart was brkken.

At nihht
shoulders and worked on without speaking. Presently down needle and him. 'Where have you nothing, poor friend?' tried to remember. think not; I have been in forest.' A little quiver ran over her face; she pulled at her needle and broke the thread. 'Finished!' she said, throwing down the coat and springing 'Don't your who it! I am for perfection in all things--_abas l'amateur!_ Come in, it is supper-time past. I go and hurry Madame Pyat. _Tu dois avoir faim de loup_.' He his head, smiling sadly. 'I you, are hungry, shall hungry!' cried, suddenly flinging arm round his neck, and nestling her fair head against his shoulder. Her voice was half a 'Oh, so I am!' said, a emphasis, and would her to him. But she slipped before him to the house, turning at the with the frankest gesture to bid him follow. passed the evening close together, she on a leaning against his knee, he reading aloud Alfred de Musset's _Nuit de Mai_. At one was all absorbed in verse, carried away it; battle-cry it calling the from the miseries of his own petty fate to the lordship life and nature as a whole; the next she had book of his hands was correcting his accent, him after her, put his Never she It the charm of the softened that cannot show its penitence Every now and then she could not move him to gaiety. But reality his sad and passive gentleness, the of feelings which would otherwise have been altogether beyond his control, served with her any gaiety could have done. _Gaiety!_ it seemed him his heart was At night
 shoulders and worked on withoUt speaking.
preseNtlY shE lAid dOwn hEr needle and surVEyed Him.

'Where have you been all Day? HaVe YOu eaTEn NothiNg, poor fRIeND?'

he tRiEd To rEmEMbEr.

'I thInk Not; I havE been in the ForEsT.'

A little quivER rAn over her fAce; She pulled at hEr nEedle
vIoLenTLy and BroKe the Thread.

'fInisheD!' she said, tHrOWing doWN the coaT ANd SpriNging up.
'Don't tell yoUR tAIlor who did it! I aM for peRfECtION in All
Things--_abas L'aMateuR!_ come in, iT Is SUPPer-TIme past. I
will gO and hurry MaDAme pyat. _Tu DoIs aVOir une Faim dE
lOUp_.'

HE shook his heAd, smIling sadlY.

'I tell YOu, you arE Hungry, yOu shalL be HunGry!' sHE cRiEd,
sUdDEnlY FlIngINg hEr arm rouNd HiS neck, And nESTLIng hEr fAir
hEad agAinst his shoulDer. her vOIce Was haLf a soB.

'Oh, sO I Am!--so I Am!' he saId, witH a Wild emphasis, and WoulD
have caugHt hEr To hIm. but shE SlippeD awAy aNd ran beFore him TO
thE hOUSE, tUrning at the window wItH THe Sweetest, FrankeST
gEsTUre to bid HiM foLlow.

tHEy pasSed tHE eVening clOse togEThEr, She on a sToOl leanInG
agAinSt his KNee, hE readiNg aloud ALfred DE Musset's _Nuit de
mAi_. At one moment SHe WAS aLL absOrbEd in the versE, carRIed
aWay bY It; GreAT battLe-cry ThAT iT Is! calling the artist fRoM
the miSerieS of his own pettY fate to the LORDship of lIfe aND
nATure as a whole; thE next She had snatCHed the boOk out Of his
hanDs and was cORRecting hIs aCceNt, bIddING hIm speak after hER,
Put hIs Lips so. NEveR had she BeeN so ChaRmiNg. it was the cOaxing
chArM oF tHe SofTened CHild that CaNnoT sHow Its peNItence EnougH.
EveRy NoW And Then she FElL TO pouTiNg BecaUse ShE coulD not MOve
Him to gaIety. But in ReaLIty hIs SaD and pasSive gentlenesS, tHe
mask of feElIngS which WOUld otherWise have been altogether bEYond
his ConTrol, sErveD him with hEr bEtter tHan ANy gaieTy coulD have
DoNe.

_GAIEty!_ it SEEmEd tO hIm his heart WAS brOken.

AT nIght
 shoulders and worked on w ithout spe aking .
P res en tlyshelaid down hern eedl e and surveyed him.

' Where  h a ve y o ubeenall day ?  H a v e y ou  e ate nn ot hing,  po or frie nd?'

He t rie dto remember. 
' I think no t;I have beeninthe fo re st. ' 

A l itt le qu iver r a n over  her face ;s he pul l ed at h e r  n eedl e
violently and b r ok e  the thread.
'Finis he d !' s hesai d, throwin gdownt he coat an d s pri n ging up.
'Don 't tell you r  ta ilor w ho  di d  it! I  am f or per fection inallthings--_ abas l ' amateur ! _ Comein, it  is  su pper - ti me  pa st .  Iw il l g o  an d hurryMa da me Py at._ T u dois  av oirune f aim de
loup_. '
He s h ook  hishead,  smi li ng sa dly.
'I te ll  you, you are h ungr y, you sh all  b e h un gry!' she cr ied ,
s uddenly  flingi n g h er a r mround his neck, an dn e st ling her  fairh ea da gainst h is  sh ould e r . Her  voi c ewas half  a sob . 
'O h, so I  a m!--so  I  am !'he sa i d, w ith awild emp hasis ,  and would
hav e  caught her t o  h i m .B ut s heslipped awa y an d  ran  bef o re  hi m  to
t he ho us e ,t urning at the windo wwith t he sw eetest, frank est
gestur e t o bid hi m fo l lo w .

They passed  theevening cl o se toget her,she on a  stool le a n ing
agai nst  hi s k nee , he  reading alou d Alfr ed  de Mus set 's _Nui t d e
M ai_ . A tone momen t she wa sal lab sor bed i n  the ver se , c ar rie d
awa y  by it ; gre at b at tl e -cr y thati ti s ! ca ll in g th e a rt ist f romt hemiserie s of hisown pett yfa te to t he lordship o flife and
n at ure  as aw h ole; the  next she had snatchedt he book  ou t ofhishands and  wa s corr ect i ng his  accen t, bi dd ing h im sp e a kaft er  her,
puth i s l ips s o.  Nev er hadshe been so charmi n g.It was the co axi ng
c h a rm  of th e  so ft e ned c hild that canno t show its  p e ni tence enou g h.Ev ery now  and th en sh e  fell t o pouting  becausesh e co u l d n ot move
hi m to gai ety. Buti n rea l it y his  sa d andpa ssi ve ge ntlene s s,the
m ask of  f eeling s whi ch  would o therwise have been alto gether  beyo ndhis contr ol, ser ved him w ithher better  th anany g aie t y cou ld h a ve 
do n e.

_ Gaie t y!_ it se e me d t o hi m his heart w a s b roken .
A t nigh t
 shoulders_and worked_on without speaking.
Presently she_laid down_her_needle and_surveyed_him.

'Where have you_been all day?_Have you eaten nothing,_poor friend?'

He tried_to_remember.

'I think not; I have been in the forest.'

A little quiver ran over her_face;_she pulled_at_her_needle
violently and broke the thread.

'Finished!'_she said, throwing down the_coat and_springing up.
'Don't tell your tailor who did it!_I_am for perfection_in all
things--_abas l'amateur!_ Come in, it is supper-time past._I
will go and hurry Madame Pyat.__Tu dois avoir_une_faim_de
loup_.'

He shook his head,_smiling sadly.

'I tell you, you are_hungry, you shall be hungry!' she_cried,
suddenly flinging her arm round his neck,_and nestling her fair
head against his_shoulder. Her voice was half_a sob.

'Oh,_so I am!--so I am!'_he said, with_a wild_emphasis, and would
have_caught her to him. But she_slipped away and_ran before him to
the house, turning_at_the window with_the_sweetest,_frankest
gesture to_bid him follow.

They_passed_the evening_close_together, she on a stool leaning
against_his_knee, he reading aloud Alfred de Musset's__Nuit de
Mai_. At one_moment_she was all absorbed_in the verse, carried
away by_it; great battle-cry that it is!_calling the_artist from
the_miseries of his own petty fate to the lordship of life_and
nature as a whole; the next_she had snatched the_book out_of_his
hands and was_correcting_his accent,_bidding him speak after her,
put his lips_so. Never_had she been so charming. It_was the coaxing
charm of_the_softened child that cannot show its_penitence enough.
Every now and then she_fell to pouting because she_could_not_move
him to gaiety. But in_reality his sad and passive gentleness,_the
mask of feelings_which would otherwise have been altogether beyond
his_control,_served him with her better than_any_gaiety could have
done.

_Gaiety!_ it seemed to_him_his_heart was broken.

At night