“No, Lucy, it isn’t fine and I am sorry. She hesitated, and for a moment thought of omitting her second verse altogether. Bulging out more in the middle than at the two extremities, it resembled an enormous cask set on its end, —a sort of Heidelberg tun on a large scale,—and this resemblance was increased by the small circular aperture—it hardly deserved to be called a door—pierced, like the bung-hole of a barrell, through the side of the structure, at some distance from the ground, and approached by a flight of wooden steps. She could not look at him through an interval that seemed to her a vast gulf of time. " With this, he mounted his steed and rode off. ’ ‘Why should Gérard care?’ sneered Gosse. Later, at the bottom of that envelope I found a letter. She loved Florence, wandering the huge markets which bustled day and night.
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