Page:Magdalen by J S Machar.pdf/205



HE Bohemian crown was gleaming on the façade in its golden splendor, and below it hung the familiar wreath of dry, pine twigs. Through a passage-way, permeated with greasy smells which issued from the open door of the kitchen, one crossed the yard, mounted seven steps, and entered a garden. Here chestnut trees spread their thick foliage over white tables. In the middle of every one of these stood large lamps, against which gnats and moths were beating blindly. Around these tables, in careless positions and at ease, sat the citizens of the town,—only those, of course, who had joined the banner of the Opposition,—for the foot of the ruling party would never, never stumble against the “crown.” They sat there conversing, talking politics and judging this