It was small, unimproved, infested with rats.
She acknowledged that one seldom felt at home anywhere, and that rats were found everywhere, either real or symbolical, legions of pests that torment us.

Yet she liked the Botanical Gardens; she had always wished to go there, yet never had gone.

There was also the museum, which she was curious to visit.
Smiling, happy, he offered to escort her there.

He considered it his house.

He would show her rare specimens, some of which were superb.
She did not know what a bolide was.