Despite the silence of the hotel they had a sense of comfort. They had
been oppressed in the cathedral by its majesty and religious gloom, but
this was the haunt of men and women who used to come in cheerfully from
the day's business and who laughed and talked in rooms and on the
stairways.
John's imaginative mind was alive at once. He beheld pleasant specters
all about him. Chastel was off the great highways, but many quiet
tourists must have come here. The beautiful cathedral, the picturesque
situation of the little town above the little river and the very ancient
Gothic buildings must have been an attraction to the knowing. He could
shut his eyes and see them now, many of them his own countrymen and
countrywomen, walking in the halls after a day of sightseeing, comparing
notes, or looking through the windows down at the little river that
foamed below. Yes, Chastel had been a pleasant town and one could pass
many days in right company in its Hotel de l'Europe.
"What are you smiling at, Mr. John?" asked Julie.
It was the first time she had called him "Mr. John," the equivalent for
his "Miss Julie," and he liked it. But he hid his pleasure and
apparently took no notice of it.
"I was seeing our hotel in times of peace," he said. "It was a sort of
mental transference, I suppose, but the place looked good to me.
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