“Oh, yes,” said Luigi, “that is the biggest clock in all the city. It takes up story after story of that office building.”
“It’s a little fast,” said the giant, holding his watch up beside it. And with a gentle shove of his forefinger he set the hands back.
Luigi gasped. But the giant turned calmly, and started, foot after foot, up the Avenue again. “Did you say,” he asked thoughtfully, “that that tower was an office building?”
“Why, yes,” said Luigi, “what should it be?”
“And what was it I took you out of?” asked the giant.
“Why, a house,” said Luigi, wondering,—“a regular house.”
The giant chuckled. “You know,” he said, “I had an idea that all these walls full of little lighted holes, were sort of prisons, or traps. I thought you had all got caught inside and couldn’t get out!”
Luigi laughed. “Oh, no,” he said, “they’re the houses we live in. But look,” he cried, “we’re coming to the Park!”
Benevaldo looked. Sure enough, down beside them was a whole patch of trees. He drew a long breath. “If you’re going to live in these traps,” he said, “why don’t you come up here in some of these white ones near the trees?”