It was in the spring-time; and the hawthorn blossoms scented the air.
The old woman, in a white cap, stood at her garden gate: she spoke beseechingly.

The count looked sternly at her as he listened, then, taking some gold from his purse, he gave it to her.
On arriving at their destination they lifted him out of the cab, the same way as they had lifted him in at starting.
During the formality of entering his name in the jail-book in the dingy, stinking record office, and whilst replying mechanically to everything, he gave himself up with delight to recollections of Claire.

He went back to the time of the early days of their love, when he doubted whether he would ever have the happiness of being loved by her in return; when they used to meet at Mademoiselle Goello's.
This old maid had a house on the left bank of the Seine furnished in the most eccentric manner.

On all the dining-room furniture, and on the mantel-piece, were placed a dozen or fifteen stuffed dogs, of various breeds, which together or successively had helped to cheer the maiden's lonely hours.

She loved to relate stories of these pets whose affection had never failed her.