Hugo thought about his father's description of the automaton.
" Did you ever notice that all machines are made for some reason?"
He asked Isabelle.
" They are built to make you laugh, like the mouse here, or to tell the time, like clocks, or to fill you with wonder, like the automaton.
Maybe that's why a broken machine always makes me a little sad, because it isn't able to do what it was meant to do. "
Isabelle picked up the mouse, wound it again, and set it down.
" Maybe it's the same with people, " Hugo continued.
" If you lose your purpose......... it's like you're broken. "
" Like Papa Georges ? "
" Maybe......... maybe we can fix him. "
"How do we do that ? "
" I don't know, but maybe Rene Tabard can help us when he visits next week. He'll know what to do....... "
Hugo and Isabelle were quiet for a moment, and then Isabelle said,
" So is that your purpose ? Fixing things ? "
Hugo thought about it.
" I don't know, " he said. " Maybe. "
" Then what's my purpose ? " wondered Isabelle.
Áß·«~~~~~
" It's so beautiful, " said Isabelle. " It looks like the whole city is made out of stars. "
" Sometimes I come up here at night, even when I'm not fixing the clocks, just to look at the city.
I like to imagine that the world is one big machine. You know, machines never have any extra parts.
They have the exact number and type of parts they need.
So I figure if the entire world is a big machine, I have to be here for some reason.
And that means you have to be here for some reason, too. "
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