Who told mademoiselle that she was sick at heart ?' 'Good gracious heavens! I am not sick at heart.

To be sure my mother is dead, and my sister is ill, and my father is as cross as two sticks, but for all that I am not heart-sick.

I like this world very well, and when I feel sad I put more onions into the soup.' Saintou went on with his work for some time in silence, then he tried again.

'You say I speak good English, and I flatter myself I have the accent very well, but what avails if I cannot make you understand?
Was it a good doctor who said mademoiselle's heart was affected; touched, I might say ?' There was a shout of laughter from under the shower of gold.
'My heart touched! One would think I was in love.

No, my heart is not touched yet; least of all by you, Mr.Saintou.
'Least of all by you, Mr.Saintou.' She repeated this last rhyming couplet with a quaint musical intonation, as though it was the refrain of a song, and after her voice and laughter had died away she went on nodding her head in time to the brushing as if she were singing it over softly to herself.