After the fresh winds that sweep the woods and plains, Lister felt the languid air made him slack and dull.

His steamer did not sail until daybreak, and since he had gone up the mountain and seen the cathedral and Notre Dame, he did not know what to do.

The bench he occupied was in the shade, and he smoked and looked about.
Cabs rolled up the street to the big hotel across the square, and behind the trees the huge block of the C.P.R.station cut the sky.

One heard whistles, the rumble of heavy wheels, and the tolling of locomotive bells.

Pigeons flew down from the cathedral dome and searched the damp gravel.
A group of foreign emigrants picnicked in the shade.