e. At the left,
the door of the dining-room, slightly ajar, afforded a glimpse of empty
bottles on the sideboards, and napkins on the backs of chairs; and
parallel with it ran a corridor in which gold-coloured sticks supported
an espalier of roses. In the courtyard below, two boys with bare arms
were scrubbing a landau. Their voices rose to Frederick's ears, mingled
with the intermittent sounds made by a currycomb knocking against a
stone.

The man-servant returned. "Madame will receive Monsieur," and he led
Frederick through a second anteroom, and then into a large drawing-room
hung with yellow brocatel with twisted fringes at the corners which were
joined at the ceiling, and which seemed to be continued by flowerings of
lustre resembling cables. No doubt there had been an entertainment there
the night before. Some cigar-ashes had been allowed to remain on the
pier-tables.

At last he found his way into a kind of boudoir with stained-glass
windows, through which the sun shed a dim light. Trefoils of carved wood
adorned the upper portions of the doors. Behind a balustrade, three
purple mattresses formed a divan; and the stem of a narghileh made of
platinum lay on top of it. Instead of a mirror, there was on the
mantelpiece a pyramid-shaped whatnot, displaying on its shelves an
entire collection of curiosities, old silver trumpets, Bohemian horns,
jewelled clasps, jade studs, enamels, grotesque figures in china, and a
little Byzantine virgin with a vermilion ape; and all this was mingled
in a golden twilight with the bluish shade of the carpet, the
mother-of-pearl reflections of the foot-stools, and the tawny hue of the
walls covered with maroon leather. In the corners, on little pedestals,
there were bronze vases containing clusters of flowers, which made the
atmosphere heavy.

Rosanette presented herself, attired in a pink satin vest with white
cashmere trousers, a necklace of piasters, and a red cap encircled with
a branch of jasmine.

Frederick started back in surprise, then said he had brought the thing
she had been speaking about, and he handed her the bank-note. She gazed
at him in astonishment; and, as he still kept the note in his hand,
without knowing where to put it:

"Pray take it!"

She seized it; then, as she flung it on the divan:

"You are very kind."

She wanted it to meet the rent of a piece of ground at Bellevue, which
she paid in this way every year. Her unceremoniousness wounded
Frederick