Madame Wachner caught his glance, and the thought crossed her mind
uncomfortably that she had perhaps made a mistake, a serious mistake, in
asking this priggish-looking Englishman to come to the Chalet des
Muguets. He evidently did not like the look of the place.
"You wonder to see our garden so untidy," she exclaimed, regretfully.
"Well, it is the owner's fault, not ours! You would not believe such a
thing of a Frenchman, but 'e actually made us promise that we would do
nothing--no, nothing at all, to 'is garden. 'E spoke of sending a man
once a week to see after it, but no, 'e never did so."
"I have often wondered," broke in Sylvia frankly, "why you allowed your
garden to get into such a state, but now, of course, I understand. What a
very odd person your landlord must be, Madame Wachner! It might be such a
delightful place if kept in good order. But I'm glad you have had the
grass cut. I remember the first time I came here the grass was
tremendously high, both in front and behind the house. Yesterday I
saw that you have had it cut."
"Yes," said Madame Wachner, glancing at her, "yes, we had the grass cut a
few days ago.
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