"We had to."
"Where are you going to spend the rest of the winter then?"
"We shall have to go back to Paris."
André seems bored by our pace, which is not lively enough for him. He outstrips us, comes back to fetch us, and covers twice the distance we do.
"I am sure he's dying to show me his playground."
"Probably," Jeannine acquiesced.
We reach a lawn. Here is a piece of ground which has been dug up, and a chalked line.
"How far can you jump now, André?"
"More than four yards," he exclaims.