I fancied, some how, that matters were not quite so mysterious to him as they had been to me.
I also fancied that I heard a suspicious roar of laughter as I passed out into the street.
It was not long before I found such apartments as I required, Piloted by Brunet through some broad thoroughfares and along part of the Boulevards, I came upon a cluster of narrow streets branching off through a massive stone gateway from the Rue du Faubourg Montmartre.
This little nook was called the Cite Bergere.

The houses were white and lofty.

Some had courtyards, and all were decorated with pretty iron balconies and delicately-tinted Venetian shutters.

Most of them bore the announcement--"_Apartements a louer_"-- suspended above the door.

Outside one of these houses sat two men with a little table between them.