Palatial residence on Quai Rousseau,
With money, movables, a mine of wealth—
And young Léonce Miranda got it all.
Ah, but—whose might the transformation be?
Were you prepared for this, now? As we talked,
We walked, we entered the half-privacy,
The partly-guarded precinct: passed beside
The little paled-off islet, trees and turf,
Then found us in the main ash-avenue
Under the blessing of its branchage-roof: