It was suggestive of that Parisian life that is as restless as the sea, as uncontrollable, as possessed of hidden currents.
Involuntarily the boy paused and glanced up at the bird in its cage--the bird that, regardless of the garden of greenstuffs pushed through its bars, was pouring forth its heart to the pale sun in a frenzy of worship.
"How strange that is!" he said.

"If I were a bird and saw the great sky, knowing myself imprisoned, I should beat my life out against my cage." The Irishman looked down upon him.

"I wonder!" he said, slowly.
The quick, gray eyes flashed up to his.

"You doubt it ?" "I don't know! 'On my soul, I don't know!" "Would you not beat your life out against a cage ?" "I wonder that too! I'd like to think I would, but--" "You imagine you would hesitate?
You think you would shrink ?" "I don't know! Human nature is so damnably patient.

Come along! here's the place we're looking for." He drew the boy across the road to the doorway of a little _cafe_, over the door of which hung the somewhat pretentious sign Maison Gustav.
The Maison Gustav was scarcely a more appetizing place than the Hotel Railleux.