The Lighthearted Quest
“said the taxi-man to Julia a week later, pulling up at a huge gateway beyond which black-looking buildings loomed through a grey downpour of rain. “Know which shed you want?”
“Number Nine,” said Julia, consulting a paper which the shipping company had given her.
“Ought to be a policeman,” said the taxi-driver.
“Hoot,” said Julia.
When the driver hooted a policeman appeared from a sort of sentry-box by the gates, and asked what Julia wanted.
“The Vidago.”
“May I see your ticket, please?” He insp...ected it, and looked curiously at Julia through the cab window; then directed the driver.
“Go along as far as you can, straight, and then turn right. You’ll see her lying.” The taxi passed through the big gates, and proceeded slowly over cobbles gleaming in the rain; the buildings formed a sort of canyon, its floor nearly as wet as a river-bed; short broad spaces led off it on one side, piled with crates and wine-barrels; more wine-barrels cluttered the canyon-floor itself—Julia had never seen so many wine-barrels in her life.MoreLess
“Number Nine,” said Julia, consulting a paper which the shipping company had given her.
“Ought to be a policeman,” said the taxi-driver.
“Hoot,” said Julia.
When the driver hooted a policeman appeared from a sort of sentry-box by the gates, and asked what Julia wanted.
“The Vidago.”
“May I see your ticket, please?” He insp...ected it, and looked curiously at Julia through the cab window; then directed the driver.
“Go along as far as you can, straight, and then turn right. You’ll see her lying.” The taxi passed through the big gates, and proceeded slowly over cobbles gleaming in the rain; the buildings formed a sort of canyon, its floor nearly as wet as a river-bed; short broad spaces led off it on one side, piled with crates and wine-barrels; more wine-barrels cluttered the canyon-floor itself—Julia had never seen so many wine-barrels in her life.MoreLess
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