Madame Valade was that kind of woman. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. It had ceased raining, but the atmosphere was moist and chill, and the ground deluged by the recent showers. “You certainly got him in the bag. ‘Very useful, of course. Here was a poor half-naked creature, with a straw crown on his head, and a wooden sceptre in his hand, seated on the ground with all the dignity of a monarch on his throne. ‘Soi-disant? Then he is not Valade?’ ‘How can I know?’ she countered crossly. He rather liked the "sir"; it signified both gratefulness and the chastened spirit.
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