We could only decide that the plain, severe, many-storied houses with the shops underneath had charms inside to compensate for their outward lack.

Not a tree anywhere, not a scrap of grass, only the lava pavement, and the view of the druggist's shop and the tourists' agency office.

Miss Callis said she didn't see why man should be for ever bound up with the vegetable creation--it was like living in a perpetual salad--and was disposed to defend the Piazza di Spagna at all points, it looked so nice and expensive.

But Miss Callis's tastes were very distinctly urban.
That druggist's establishment was on the Pincian Hill! It seemed, on reflection, an outrage.

We all looked about us, when we discovered this, for the other six, and another of the foolish geographical illusions of the school-room was shattered for each of us.