He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. “You and Anna,” she said, “seem to have stumbled upon a mare’s nest. Then he hovered undecidedly for some seconds with his hands in his pockets and his mouth puckered to a whistle before he turned to go home by the Avenue. Call her Miss Pellissier, eh? I tell you she’s my wife, and I’ve got the certificate in my pocket. ” She made her glasses glint.
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