g cat.

Vandover was self-indulgent--he loved these sensuous pleasures, he loved
to eat good things, he loved to be warm, he loved to sleep. He hated to
be bored and worried--he liked to have a good time.

At about half-past four o'clock he came to a good stopping-place in his
book; the two men had got to quarrelling, and his interest flagged a
little. He pushed Mr. Corkle off his lap and got up yawning and went to
the window.

Vandover's home was on California Street not far from Franklin. It was a
large frame house of two stories; all the windows in the front were bay.
The front door was directly in the middle between the windows of the
parlour and those of the library, while over the vestibule was a sort of
balcony that no one ever thought of using. The house was set in a large
well-kept yard. The lawn was pretty; an enormous eucalyptus tree grew at
one corner. Nearer to the house were magnolia and banana trees growing
side by side with pines and firs. Humming-birds built in these, and one
could hear their curious little warbling mingling with the hoarse chirp
of the English sparrows which nested under the eaves. The back yard was
separated from the lawn by a high fence of green lattice-work. The hens
and chickens were kept here and two roosters, one of which crowed every
time a cable-car passed the house. On the door cut through the
lattice-fence was a sign, "Look Out for the Dog." Close to the unused
barn stood an immense windmill with enormous arms; when the wind blew in
the afternoon the sails whirled about at a surprising speed, pumping up
water from the artesian well sunk beneath. There was a small
conservatory where the orchids were kept. Altogether, it was a charming
place. However, adjoining it was a huge vacant lot with cows in it. It
was full of dry weeds and heaps of ashes, while around it was an
enormous fence painted with signs of cigars, patent bitters, and soap.

Vandover stood at a front window and looked out on a rather dreary
prospect. The inevitable afternoon trades had been blowing hard since
three, strong and brisk from the ocean, driving hard through the Golden
Gate and filling the city with a taint of salt. Now the fog was coming
in; Vandover could see great patches of it sweeping along between him
and the opposite houses. All the eucalyptus trees were dripping, and
occasionally there came the faint moan of the fog-horn out at the heads.
He could see up the street for nearly two miles as it