"Doesn't your papa ever come to see
you?" insisted Chupin.
"Never."
"Why?"
"Mamma is very poor."
"And wouldn't you like to go and see him?"
"I don't know. But he'll come some day, and take us away with him
to a large house. We shall be all right, then; and he will give
us a deal of money and pretty dresses, and I shall have plenty of
toys."
Satisfied on this point, Chupin, pushed his investigations
farther. "And do you know this old gentleman who is with your
mamma in the other room?"
"Oh, yes!--that's Mouchon."
"And who's Mouchon?"
"He's the gentleman who owns that beautiful garden at the corner
of the Rue Riquet, where there are such splendid grapes. I'm
going with him to get some."
"Does he often come to see you?"
"Every evening. He always has goodies in his pocket for mamma and
me."
"Why does he sit in that back room without any light?"
"Oh, he says that the customers mustn't see him."
It would have been an abominable act to continue this examination,
and make this child the innocent accuser of his own mother.
Chupin felt conscience-smitten even now. So he kissed the
cleanest spot he could find on the boy's face, and set him on the
floor again, saying, "Go and play."
The child had revealed his mother's character with cruel
precision. What had she told him about his father? That he was
rich, and that, in case he returned, he would give them plenty of
money and fine clothes.
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