and he thought he could hear the rushing of cascades of louis.
“And you go into that house?” cried he briskly.
“When I like.”
Caderousse was thoughtful for a moment. It was easy to perceive he was revolving some unfortunate idea in his mind. Then suddenly—
“How I should like to see all that,” cried he; “how beautiful it must be!”
“It is, in fact, magnificent,” said Andrea.
“And does he not live in the Champs-Élysées?”
“Yes, No. 30.”
“Ah,” said Caderousse, “ No. 30.”
“Yes, a fine house standing alone, between a courtyard and a garden—you must know it.”
“Possibly; but it is