And on his way to the station, in the carriage with his friend, he did not say a word.
[PART II]
I
THE OTHER SIDE OF THE WORLD
In the beginning of July, the lime trees in the city park at Grenoble were, in addition to their shade, still giving forth the heavy scent of their fading flowers. A light breeze to offset the heat of the sun could be found—there and under the trees on the promenade L'Ile Verte, where nobody goes, and where even the nurses do not willingly take their little charges.
After having thrown some bread to the black swan who caught it in his red beak with a loud splash, Marie-Louise and Philippe Derize, who had been summoned home, were saying good-by to their little friends, Jeanne and Renée de Crozet, who were earnestly telling of their early departure.
"We are going to Aix-Les-Bains this year."
"And we are going to Uriage," replied Marie-Louise who was never at a loss for an answer.
"Saint-Martin," explained her stolid brother. "It is in the woods."
But the little girl promptly contradicted him:
"No, Uriage, it is more fashionable."