After she had examined it she gave me a meaning look, intended only for my eyes, that said as plainly as a look can that she knew I had neglected my task.

Suddenly she asked: "where did you leave your Duruy's 'History' ?" My Duruy's "History"! Where indeed had I left it?
It was a new book with scarcely a blot in it.

Great heavens! I had forgotten it and left it out of doors at the far end of the garden in the most removed asparagus bed.
For my historical studies I had selected the asparagus bed which was like a bit of copse, for the feathery green plants, past their season, grew high and luxuriant; a hazel glen, leafy and impenetrable, and as shady as a verdant grotto, was the spot I had chosen for the more exacting and laborious work of Latin versification.

As this time I was scolded by Lucette's mother for my great carelessness, we decided to go immediately and rescue the book.
We organized a search party, and at the head of it went a servant who carried a stable-lantern; Lucette and I walked behind him.

Our feet were protected from the wet ground by wooden shoes, and with much difficulty we held over us a large umbrella that the wind constantly turned inside out.
Once outside I was no longer afraid; I opened my eyes wide and listened with all my ears.