"Very well, monsieur," she said. "Will you have the kindness to come and look at the room?"
I followed her up the stair, giddy at my good fortune. She opened a door and lighted a gas-jet against the wall.
"I am sure you will like the apartment, monsieur," she said. "You see, it is a very large one and most comfortable."
It was, indeed, of good size and well furnished. The bed was in a kind of alcove, and beyond it was a bath—unlooked-for luxury! One thing, however, struck me as peculiar. The windows were closed by heavy shutters, which were barred upon the inside, and the bars were secured in place by padlocks.
"I shall want to open the windows," I remarked. "Do you always keep them barred?"
She hesitated a moment, looking a little embarrassed.
"You see, monsieur, it is this way," she explained, at last. "Monsieur Bethune himself had the locks put on; for he feared that his poor sister would throw herself down into the court-yard, which is paved with stone, and where she would certainly have been killed. She was very bad some days, poor dear. I was most glad when they took her away: for the thought of her made me nervous. I will in the morning open the windows, and air the room well for you."
"That will do nicely," I assented, as carelessly as I could. I knew that I had chanced upon a new development, though I could not in the least guess its bearing. "What do you ask for the apartment?"
"Ten dollars the week, monsieur," she answered, eying me narrowly.
I knew it was not worth so much, and, remembering my character, repressed my first inclination to close the bargain.