"I may carry it away--home?"
"Of course!" we all responded. He was already at the door, but he dared
not go out. He was happy! He begged our pardon with a mouth that smiled
and quivered. Garrone helped him to wrap up the train in a handkerchief,
and as he bent over, he made the things with which his pockets were
filled rattle.
"Some day," said Precossi to me, "you shall come to the shop to see my
father at work. I will give you some nails."
My mother put a little bunch of flowers into Garrone's buttonhole, for
him to carry to his mother in her name. Garrone said, "Thanks," in his
big voice, without raising his chin from his breast. But all his kind
and noble soul shone in his eyes.