"Well, let us do so."
"And--we will leave for Paris to-morrow?"
"Yes, to-morrow."
"To-morrow morning?"
"To-morrow morning, if you like."
They returned home. The old folks had gone to bed. She slept badly,
continually aroused by all the country sounds so new to her--the cry of
the screech owl, the grunting of a pig in a sty adjoining the house, and
the noise of a cock who kept on crowing from midnight. She was up and
ready to start at daybreak.
When George announced to his parents that he was going back they were
both astonished; then they understood the origin of his wish.