"Theater built by the state," answered the driver, without looking around. "Cost millions."
"Reis?" asked Lewis, smiling.
"Reis? Bah!" grunted the driver. "Pounds."
The street left the level and started to climb. Lewis looked anxiously to right and left. He saw a placard that read, "Street of the Consolation."
"Stop!" he cried.
The driver drew up at the curb.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"This isn't the Street of the Consolation," said Lewis, dismayed. "Where's the big cotton-tree and the priest's house, and—and the bamboos? Where are the bamboos?"
The driver looked around curiously.
"I remember them, the bamboos," he said, nodding. "They're gone."