the second floor, to a cupboard crammed with child's shoes, rattles, broken toys, a little cradle, a chair on wheels and showed them to her with an air of saying:
"Pick where you like, take what you like; I give them to you."
But none of these things tempted Gilberte. Then the old woman took her down to the garden, led her to an acacia-tree, to a wooden bench, to what remained of a dovecote and, at each halt, questioned her with her eager eyes.
At last, Gilberte felt weary; little by little, since the woman's arrival, the deserted house had lost its mysterious charm for her; and she began to think of going. Thereupon the old crone, anticipating her wishes, took a key from her pocket and opened the rusty gate. She stooped, as Gilberte went out, and kissed the hem of her dress.
Turning round, a few minutes after, Gilberte saw her standing in the middle of the road, making signs to her.
