Some
carried dolls dressed in the quaint costumes of Swiss peasants, and some
had balloons. A man with a bunch of them like a cluster of great red
bubbles had just sold out on the corner.
So she sat in the sunshine, looking around her with eager, interested
eyes. The coachman, high up on his box, seemed as interested as
herself; at least, he sat up very straight and stiff. But it was only
his back that Lloyd saw. He had been at a fete the night before. There
seems to be always a holiday in Geneva. He had stayed long at the
merrymaking and had taken many mugs of beer. They made him drowsy and
stupid. The American gentleman and his wife stayed long in the
enameller's shop. He could scarcely keep his eyes open. Presently,
although he never moved a muscle of his back and sat up stiff and
straight as a poker, he was sound asleep, and the reins in his grasp
slipped lower and lower and lower.
The horse was an old one, stiffened and jaded by much hard travel, but
it had been a mettlesome one in its younger days, with the recollection
of many exciting adventures. Now, although it seemed half asleep,
dreaming, maybe, of the many jaunts it had taken with other American
tourists, or wondering if it were not time for it to have its noonday
nosebag, it was really keeping one eye open, nervously watching some
painters on the sidewalk.
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