each pavilion; the work,
indeed, was in such an advanced state that turn-tables had been put into
position at all the points of intersection, and were in readiness for
use. After much examination, Cadine and Marjolin had at last succeeded
in discovering a loose plank in the hoarding which enclosed the track,
and they had managed to convert it into a door, by which they could
easily gain access to the line. There they were quite shut off from
the world, though they could hear the continuous rumbling of the street
traffic over their heads.

The line stretched through deserted vaults, here and there illumined
by a glimmer of light filtering through iron gratings, while in certain
dark corners gas jets were burning. And Cadine and Marjolin rambled
about as in the secret recesses of some castle of their own, secure from
all interruption, and rejoicing in the buzzy silence, the murky glimmer,
and subterranean secrecy, which imparted a touch of melodrama to their
experiences. All sorts of smells were wafted through the hoarding from
the neighbouring cellars; the musty smell of vegetables, the pungency of
fish, the overpowering stench of cheese, and the warm reek of poultry.

At other times, on clear nights and fine dawns, they would climb on to
the roofs, ascending thither by the steep staircases of the turrets
at the angles of the pavilions. Up above they found fields of leads,
endless promenades and squares, a stretch of undulating country which
belonged to them. They rambled round the square roofs of the pavilions,
followed the course of the long roofs of the covered ways, climbed and
descended the slopes, and lost themselves in endless perambulations of
discovery. And when they grew tired of the lower levels they ascended
still higher, venturing up the iron ladders, on which Cadine's skirts
flapped like flags. Then they ran along the second tier of roofs beneath
the open heavens. There was nothing save the stars above them. All sorts
of sounds rose up from the echoing markets, a clattering and rumbling,
a vague roar as of a distant tempest heard at nighttime. At that height
the morning breeze swept away the evil smells, the foul breath of
the awaking markets. They would kiss one another on the edge of the
gutterings like sparrows frisking on the house-tops. The rising fires
of the sun illumined their faces with a ruddy glow. Cadine laughed
with pleasure at being so high up in the air, and her neck shone with
iridescent ti