"A pretty name!" The Irishman looked as well.

"Max! So that's what they call you?
Max! Well, let's drink to it!" He filled the three glasses and raised his own.
"To the name of Max!" he said.

"May it be known from here to the back of God's speed!" He swallowed the brandy and laid down his glass.
"To M.Max!" The Frenchwoman smiled.

"A great future, monsieur!" She sipped and bowed.
Of the three, the boy alone sat motionless.

His heart felt strangely full, the tears in his eyes were dangerously near to falling.
"Come, Max! Up with your glass!" "Monsieur, I--I beg you to excuse me! My heart is very full of your kindness." "Nonsense, boy! Drink!" The boy laughed with a catch in his breath, then he drank a little with nervous haste, coughing as he laid his glass down.