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⇛ ANSWER ⇚Three was music from my neighbours house through the summer night .In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like months among the whispering and the champagne and the stars. At high tide in the afternoon I watched his guests diving from the tower of his raft , or taking the sun on the hot sand of his beach while his two motor-boats slit the waters of the sound , drawing aquaplane's over cataracts of foam. On week-ends his Rolls-Royce became an omnibus , bearing parties to and from the city between nine in the morning and long past midnight while his station wagon scampered like a brisk yellow bug to meet all trains . And on mondays eight servants , including an extra gardener, toiled all day with mops and scrubbing - brushes and hammers and garden -shears , repairing the ravages of the night before.Everyday friday five crates of oranges and lemons arrived from the frutierer in New-york - every monday these same oranges and lemons left his back door in a pyramid in a pulp-less halves