"You still love your baby?" he asked in his child voice.
"Oh, I certainly love him!" answered Nana, briskly getting out of his
clutches. "But you come popping in without warning. You know, my little
man, I'm not my own mistress; you must be good!"
Georges, when he got out of his cab, had been so dizzy with the feeling
that his long desire was at last about to be satisfied that he had
not even noticed what sort of house he was entering. But now he
became conscious of a change in the things around him. He examined the
sumptuous dining room with its lofty decorated ceiling, its Gobelin
hangings, its buffet blazing with plate.
"Yes, yes!" he remarked sadly.
And with that she made him understand that he was never to come in the
mornings but between four and six in the afternoon, if he cared to.
That was her reception time. Then as he looked at her with suppliant,
questioning eyes and craved no boon at all, she, in her turn, kissed him
on the forehead in the most amiable way.
"Be very good," she whispered. "I'll do all I can."
But the truth was that this remark now meant nothing. She thought
Georges very nice and would have liked him as a companion, but as
nothing else. Nevertheless, when he arrived daily at four o'clock he
seemed so wretched that she was often fain to be as compliant as of old
and would hide him in cupboards and constantly allow him to pick up the
crumbs from Beauty's table.
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