He was obliged to close his eyes that he might again behold the lane green, and live his happy hours afresh.

It was warm weather; and he was racing with Miette in the balmy air.

Then the cruel December rains fell unceasingly, yet they still came there, sheltering themselves beneath the planks and listening with rapture to the heavy plashing of the shower.

His whole life--all his happiness--passed before him like a flash of lightning.

Miette was climbing over the wall, running to him, shaking with sonorous laughter.