"You gentlemen have come to see the house?"
"Exactly. I am M. Durant. It is I who wrote to you."
"To be sure, sir, I remember."
The porter showed the two visitors into the garden, and forthwith the stout man drew his nephew along the paths. The sense of proprietorship came over him at once; he spared his relative none of the points of the property.
"You see, Emile, it isn't big, but still it is amply sufficient. No trees before the house, which allows a view of the Boulevard from all the windows. The servants' quarters being in the far part of the garden can in no way annoy the people in the house: Notice, too, that the trees are quite young and their foliage thin. I don't care for too luxuriant gardens which are apt to block the view."
"That's right, Uncle."
The porter, who was following the two, broke in upon the ecstasy of the prospective owner.
"Would you gentlemen like to see the house?"
"Why, certainly, certainly."
The stout man, however, before entering, was bent on going round it. He noticed the smallest details, growing more and more enthusiastic.