'"Yes, yes," he said to himself, "sing on, happy birds of the South, pure as the sky that looked down upon your birth! This merriment is the indication of a perfectly clear conscience, and laughter well befits you, who have never had an idea of evil! Ah! My old father's dear old ballads, which have allayed the anxieties of his life and lessened the fatigue of his labour - I should listen to them with respect instead of smiling at their simplicity! And my young sister's merry laughter I should welcome with affectionate delight as a proof of her courage and her innocence! Away with my selfish dreams and my unfeeling curiosity! I will go through the storm with you, and will enjoy as you do a burst of sunlight between two clouds. My careworn brow is an insult to your candour - black ingratitude for your kindness. I propose to be your staff in distress, your comrade in toil, and your boon companion in joy!"'
from The Piccinino by George Sand (Chapter XXXII)
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