They had come down into the garden, and the two men, walking beside the ladies, were listening to them in consequential silence.
"Never mind," said Mme Hugon, kissing her son's sunny locks, "Zizi is a very good boy to come and bury himself in the country with his mother.
He's a dear Zizi not to forget me!" In the afternoon she expressed some anxiety, for Georges, directly after leaving the table, had complained of a heavy feeling in his head and now seemed in for an atrocious sick headache.

Toward four o'clock he said he would go upstairs to bed: it was the only remedy.

After sleeping till tomorrow morning he would be perfectly himself again.

His mother was bent on putting him to bed herself, but as she left the room he ran and locked the door, explaining that he was shutting himself in so that no one should come and disturb him.

Then caressingly he shouted, "Good night till tomorrow, little Mother!" and promised to take a nap.