Chapter 8: Budding Romance

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"Isabelle?  Are you up here?" It was Esmeralda.  Both Isabelle and Quasimodo got down from the roof and ran back into the bell tower to greet her. 


"Yes, I'm here!" she called out as Quasimodo followed behind her.  As soon as Esmeralda saw him, she exclaimed in relief,


"Here you are.  I was afraid I lost you."


"Yes.  Um, well, I uh, I have chores to do.  It was, uh, nice...seeing...you...again.  Ohh..." he said awkwardly.


"No, wait!" she called out and then began chase a fleeing Quasimodo.  "I'm really sorry about this afternoon.  I had no idea who you were.  I would never in my life had...pulled...you...up on the...stage."


She slowed down as she reached Quasimodo's room, with its dangling glass mobile and model of the city.


"What is this place?" she asked in awe.


"This is where I live," he replied.


"Did you make all these things yourself?" she asked, still in awe.


"Most of them," he answered.


"This is beautiful.  If I could do this, you wouldn't find me dancing in the streets for coins, she remarked.


"Oh, but you're a wonderful dancer," Isabelle chimed in.


"Well, it keeps bread on the table, anyway.  What's this?" she asked.


"Oh, no, please oh, I'm not finished--I still have to paint them..." Quasimodo said, tried to stop her.


"It's the blacksmith, and the baker!" she said in surprise, picking both of the figures up.  


"He's an amazing person, isn't he?" Isabelle remarked.


"Quite.  Not to mention lucky.  All of this space to himself," Esmeralda said.


"Well, it's not just me--there's the gargoyles, and of course the bells.  Would you like to see them?" he asked.


"Yes, of course.  Wouldn't we, Djali?"  The whole time, the goat had been munching on an unpainted figure, and slurped it into his mouth.

  Wouldn't we, Djali?"  The whole time, the goat had been munching on an unpainted figure, and slurped it into his mouth

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