She continued to look at the presents on the chest of drawers, affectedly lowering her eyelids and pretending not to understand her father's naughty words.

But the zinc-worker was an awful plague on the nights when he had had too much.

Poking his face right against her neck, he said: "I'll give you white dresses! So the finery tickles your fancy.

They excite your imagination.

Just you cut away from there, you ugly little brat! Move your hands about, bundle them all into a drawer!" Nana, with bowed head, did not answer a word.