They came down to the bridge, escaping from the bustle of the city. From the fir woods the clarions sounded louder, calling to each other like bold and triumphant voices.
"Have you got those in your opera?" she asked him.
"I shall have them."
"Of course."
They talked a little about the libretto as they crossed the bridge, with the sound of the water in their ears.
"It is good to be out of the city!" Claude said, as they came to the rubble of the unfinished track on the farther side, where Arabs worked under the supervision of a French overseer. "I did not know you were a walker."
"I don't think you knew very much about me."
"That's quite true. Where do you wish to go?"
"Anywhere—to the left. Let us sit on a rock under the trees and look at the view."
"Can you get up here?"