“Well, since we’re here we’re here,” said Peur Jamais. “However, Monsieur, you certainly can’t be staying in a place like this?”
“I believe I have not as yet given any information as to my place of residence.” The Frenchman’s tone clearly conveyed a hint that he was annoyed at the curiosity which Bobby displayed. “Houses are like men, mon ami: they live their allotted time, and then their days are done.”
“Well, come on, Georgie, let us take a look at the old place,” cried Peur Jamais.
And Bobby, with a merry laugh, started for the adjoining room.
But his passage was unexpectedly blocked.
His passage was unexpectedly blocked
The peasant had stepped in front of him, saying in a firm tone:
“Must I remind you, my young friend, of what I said just a few moments ago?”
Bobby was surprised—so much surprised, indeed, that for an instant he stared at the peasant without speaking; and his scrutiny was so searching, so earnest, that the man, as though finding it either annoying or disconcerting, moved toward a shadowy corner of the room.