FAREWELL
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made much of him, that brave, noble boy. His father was perfectly amazed, as he looked on and smiled.
Garrone was the last one whom I embraced in the street, and I stifled a sob against his breast. He kissed my brow. Then I ran to my father and mother.
My father asked me: “Have you spoken to all your comrades?”
I replied that I had.
“If there is any one of them whom you have wronged, go and ask his pardon, and beg him to forget it. Is there no one?”
“No one,” I answered.
“Farewell, then,” said my father with a voice full of emotion, bestowing a last glance on the schoolhouse.
“Farewell!” my mother repeated.
I could not say anything.
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