A warm corner in the pig-market at Boulogne—Book 7, chap. v.
Whenever he felt Toots coming again, he began to laugh and wipe his eyes afresh; and when Toots came once more, he gave a kind of cry, as if it were too much for him—Book 8, chap. iv.
He . . . slightly cocked up his evil eye at the goldfinch. Instantly a raging thirst beset that bird; and when it was appeased he still drew several unnecessary buckets of water, leaping about his perch and sharpening his bill with irrepressible satisfaction—Book 8, chap. v.
