"
The outer room of the two inhabited by Lisbeth served her as
sitting-room, dining-room, kitchen, and workroom. The furniture was such
as beseemed a well-to-do artisan--walnut-wood chairs with straw seats, a
small walnut-wood dining table, a work table, some colored prints in
black wooden frames, short muslin curtains to the windows, the floor
well polished and shining with cleanliness, not a speck of dust
anywhere, but all cold and dingy, like a picture by Terburg in every
particular, even to the gray tone given by a wall paper once blue and
now faded to gray. As to the bedroom, no human being had ever
penetrated its secrets.
The Baron took it all in at a glance, saw the sign-manual of
commonness on every detail, from the cast-iron stove to the household
utensils, and his gorge rose as he said to himself, "And _this_ is
virtue!--What am I here for?" said he aloud. "You are far too cunning
not to guess, and I had better tell you plainly," cried he, sitting
down and looking out across the courtyard through an opening he made
in the puckered curtain. "There is a very pretty woman in the
house----"
"Madame Marneffe! Now I understand!" she exclaimed, seeing it all.
"But Josepha?"
"Alas, Cousin, Josepha is no more.
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