Kitty found Madame's door ajar, and went in softly, fearful
lest she might wake her. She did not know that Selina was in the
room, and as she heard the steady breathing of the sleepers, she
concluded that Madame was asleep, and resolved to go quietly into
her own room without disturbing the sleeper. So eerie the room
looked with the faint night-light burning on the table beside the
bed, and all the shadows, not marked and distinct as in a strong
glare, were faintly confused. Just near the door was a long chevral
glass, and Kitty caught sight of herself in it, wan and spectral-
looking, in her white dress, and, as she let the heavy blue cloak
fall from her shoulders, a perfect shower of apple blossoms were
shaken on to the floor. Her hair had come undone from its sleek,
smooth plaits, and now hung like a veil of gold on her shoulders.
She looked closely at herself in the glass, and her face looked worn
and haggard in the dim light. A pungent acrid odour permeated the
room, and the heavy velvet curtains moved with subdued rustlings as
the wind stole in through the window. On a table near her was a
portrait of Vandeloup, which he had given Madame two days before,
and though she could not see the face she knew it was his.
Stretching out her hand she took the photograph from its stand, and
sank into a low chair which stood at the end of the room some
distance from the bed.
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