re always floating about high up in the sky.
I lived in the cotter's hovel, together with seven other children,
and a pig--out there on the grey plain, where there isn't a single
tree. But from our windows I could see the wall around the count's
park, and apple-trees above it. That was the Garden of Eden, and
many fierce angels were guarding it with flaming swords.
Nevertheless I and some other boys found our way to the Tree of
Life--now you despise me?

JULIA. Oh, stealing apples is something all boys do.

JEAN. You may say so now, but you despise me nevertheless. However---
once I got into the Garden of Eden with my mother to weed the onion
beds. Near by stood a Turkish pavillion, shaded by trees and
covered with honeysuckle. I didn't know what it was used for, but I
had never seen a more beautiful building. People went in and came
out again, and one day the door was left wide open. I stole up and
saw the walls covered with pictures of kings and emperors, and the
windows were hung with red, fringed curtains--now you know what I
mean. I--[breaks off a lilac sprig and holds it under MISS JULIA's
nose]--I had never been inside the manor, and I had never seen
anything but the church--and this was much finer. No matter where
my thoughts ran, they returned always--to that place. And gradually
a longing arose within me to taste the full pleasure of--_enfin_! I
sneaked in, looked and admired. Then I heard somebody coming. There
was only one way out for fine people, but for me there was another,
and I could do nothing else but choose it.

[JULIA, who has taken the lilac sprig, lets it drop on the table.]

JEAN. Then I started to run, plunged through a hedge of raspberry
bushes, chased right across a strawberry plantation, and came out
on the terrace where the roses grow. There I caught sight of a pink
dress and pair of white stockings--that was you! I crawled under a
pile of weeds--right into it, you know--into stinging thistles and
wet, ill-smelling dirt. And I saw you walking among the roses, and
I thought: if it be possible for a robber to get into heaven and
dwell with the angels, then it is strange that a cotter's child,
here on God's own earth, cannot get into the park and play with the
count's daughter.

JULIA. [Sentimentally] Do you think all poor children have the same
thoughts as you had in this case?

JEAN. [Hesitatingly at first; then with conviction] If _all_ poor---
yes---of course. Of course!

JULIA. I