"Alone?"

"Quite alone."

"In an hotel?"

"No; in that house there down the road. Behold my house; that is it."

"It must be hard to live among so many invalids!" he exclaimed.

"Why?" she asked. "This gentleman may not have the same ideas as you."

"I believe I have. To my mind, he is right. It is very hard to live
here."

"You can have nobody to talk to. That's evident."

"Absolutely nobody. Just imagine; there is not a Liberal in the town;
there are nothing but Carlists and Integrists."

"And what has that to do with living contented?" she asked mockingly.

The woman was enchanting; I looked at her, a bit amazed to find her so
merry and so coquettish; and she put several questions to me about my
life and my ideas, with a tinge of irony.

I wanted to show that I was not exactly a farmer, and turning the talk
to what might be done in a town like that, I threw myself into outlining
utopian projects, and defending them with more warmth than it is
reasonable to express in a conversation with unknown persons. The