From the unlovely hillside his glance strayed to the several five-story towers of the pawnshops. ‘You didn’t understand it any better than I. Immediately the "boy" went forth with his paper lantern, repeating a cry as he ran—warning to clear the way. Now then. Even now I do not understand. ’ He grinned. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. Monsieur Charvill, he is also my cousin. E.
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