“To my surprise and dismay the servant said they could accommodate us.  Should we stay?  I knew that in the older parts of Paris the best of houses are sometimes found in the poorer streets, and that in no city is a person less able to judge of the interior comfort of a building by its external aspect.  We were very tired, and should we turn away from this open door where should we find another open for us?  The porter, however good-natured, could not continue to run about with us all night, and our faith in ourselves was considerably diluted since we left the cars:  even a cab might be difficult to get at this hour of the night.  Annie did not object:  indeed, she looked too worn out to have an opinion in the matter, and as I could think of nothing better to do, I began to make the usual inquiries:  ’Have you two adjoining rooms?’

“‘Yes, mademoiselle.’

“I remembered the advice that had been given us on starting:  here surely was a place to use it, so I said to the servant in a marked tone, ‘Take madame’s bag and show us to our chambers.’

“‘This way, mesdemoiselles,’ he answered with the most provoking coolness.

“I dismissed our faithful porter with regret, and followed the other up stairs.  While ascending I racked my brain to determine what peculiarity of manner we could adopt that would give us a more matronly air while traveling, but I could think of nothing.  I may as well tell you now that we never for an instant deceived any one on this subject during our stay, and we soon ceased trying to do so.

“Our rooms were much better than I had expected to find them, but even this caused in me a feeling of doubt.  They had a hypocritical air, a grasping after appearances that I believe always accompanies deceit and imposition—­a sleek shabbiness that I detest.  I knew by instinct that if I examined I should find the carpets worn out under the mats, and the chairs faded beneath their smart chintz covers.  There was not a candid-looking piece of furniture in the apartment:  the table was an impostor with one short leg; the drawers of the bureau would not open; the glasses were all askew, and twisted your face to such a degree that it frightened you to catch a glimpse of yourself in passing.  But this was not the worst:  from the moment I entered the rooms I felt that they had been waiting for us.

“I did not venture to mention my suspicions to Annie, and tried to keep up a cheery sort of conversation while we undressed, but I could see that she too began to be uneasy.  We carefully inspected our doors, and found the locks were good, then looked to see that there was no one lurking under the beds.  It would be difficult to tell you exactly what I feared, but somehow everything impressed me as mysterious—­the quiet of the streets through which we had come, and the quiet of the house.  It was such a lonely, eerie kind of place:  our feet echoed on the stairways as if human feet seldom ascended them; the shadows appeared especially dark; our candles’ small light made little impression on the gloom; the very air seemed harder to breathe than ordinary; and on recalling the face of the impertinent servant I thought that it had a sinister look.