Page:The Novels of Ivan Turgenev (volume X).djvu/151

Rh 'It is not the light of day.' 'Good; then take me at once to the Boulevard des Italiens.' Alice wrapped the end of her long hanging sleeve about my head. I was at once enfolded in a sort of white vapour full of the drowsy fragrance of the poppy. Everything disappeared at once; every light, every sound, and almost consciousness itself. Only the sense of being alive remained, and that was not unpleasant. Suddenly the vapour vanished; Alice took her sleeve from my head, and I saw at my feet a huge mass of closely - packed buildings, brilliant light, movement, noisy traffic. ... I saw Paris.

been in Paris before, and so I recognised at once the place to which Alice had directed her course. It was the Garden of the Tuileries with its old chestnut-trees, its iron railings, its fortress moat, and its brutal-looking Zouave sentinels. Passing the palace, passing the Church of St. Roche, on the steps of which the first Napoleon for the first time shed French