His youth, his embarrassment and the funny figure he cut in his struggles with his flowers melted Nana's heart, and she burst into a pretty peal of laughter.

Well, now, the very children were coming, were they?
Men were arriving in long clothes.

So she gave up all airs and graces, became familiar and maternal, tapped her leg and asked for fun: "You want me to wipe your nose; do you, baby ?" "Yes," replied the lad in a low, supplicating tone.
This answer made her merrier than ever.

He was seventeen years old, he said.

His name was Georges Hugon.