In the quiet, and half-light of the small room, there was an old man with flushed cheeks, and wrinkled to the end of his finger tips. He was fast asleep, slumped in an armchair, with his mouth open and his hands on his knees. At his feet was a very young girl dressed all in blue--a large cape and a small bonnet--the orphanage's uniform. She was reading the life of St. Irenaeus from a book larger than herself.... This wonderful reading had a soporific effect on the whole household; the old man sleeping in his armchair, the flies on the ceiling, and even the caged canaries in the window. The big clock was quietly grinding away. Nothing moved in the room, except from within a large band of white light, which fell from between the closed shutters, which was full of sparkling movement and microscopic waltzes.... In the midst of all this general stupor, the child continued her solemn reading: S ... oon ... two ... lions ... jum ... ped ... on ... him ... and ... de ... vour ... ed ... him.... Then I appeared.... The actual arrival of the lions in the room could not have caused more panic. It was a moment of pure theatre! The tot screamed, the book fell, the canaries and flies bestirred themselves, the clock chimed, and the old man sat up, startled. I was a little flustered myself, and froze at the doorsill, shouting as loud as I could: --Hello, folks! I'm Maurice's friend. Well! You should have seen the poor old soul come with open-arms to hug me, and shake my hand, and pace wildly round the room, going: --My God! My God!... His wrinkled face broke into deep creases of laughter. He flushed and stuttered: --Oh, monsieur... Oh, monsieur!... Then he went to the back of the room and called out for: --Mamette! A door opened; a mouse-like scurrying was heard in the passage ... and there she stood, Mamette, as pretty as a picture in her shell-like bonnet, her nun-like habit, and her embroidered hanky, which she held in the respectful, old-fashioned way.... It was so touching; they looked completely alike. With his hair done up and yellow shells, he could have been another Mamette, except that the real one must have cried a lot in her life, as she was even more wrinkled than he. She, too, had a girl carer from the orphanage, a little nurse, dressed in a blue cape, who never left her side. To see these old folks, cared for by the orphans, was unimaginably moving. Mamette began by addressing me rather too formerly, but the old fellow cut her off mid-stream: --He's Maurice's friend.... The effect was immediate; she stood there, trembling, crying, and blushing even more than he was. That's old people for you! Only a drop of blood in their veins, but at the least emotion, it leaps to their faces.... --Quick, get a chair, said the old woman to her little companion. --Open the blinds, cried the old man to his.