It was the Luxembourg, and through the tall railings they caught a glimpse of well-kept lawns, splashing fountains and richly dressed children playing.

From the distance came the stirring strains of a brass band.
The coachman drove up to the curb and Jefferson jumped down, assisting Shirley to alight.

In spite of Shirley's protest Jefferson insisted on paying.
"_Combien ?_" he asked the _cocher_.
The jehu, a surly, thick-set man with a red face and small, cunning eyes like a ferret, had already sized up his fares for two _sacre_ foreigners whom it would be flying in the face of Providence not to cheat, so with unblushing effrontery he answered: "_Dix francs, Monsieur!_" And he held up ten fingers by way of illustration.
Jefferson was about to hand up a ten-franc piece when Shirley indignantly interfered.

She would not submit to such an imposition.

There was a regular tariff and she would pay that and nothing more.