"What the deuce brings you here and at this time of night?" asked Marcel.
"I was very cold," said Mimi shivering. "I saw a light in your room as I was passing along the street, and although it was very late I came up."
She was still shivering, her voice had a cristalline sonority that pierced Rodolphe's heart like a funeral knell, and filled it with a mournful alarm. He looked at her more attentively. It was no longer Mimi, but her ghost.
Marcel made her sit down beside the fire.
Mimi smiled at the sight of the flame dancing merrily on the hearth.
"It is very nice," said she, holding out her poor hands blue with cold. "By the way, Monsieur Marcel, you do not know why I have called on you?"
"No, indeed."
"Well," said Mimi, "I simply came to ask you whether you could get them to let me a room here. I have just been turned out of my lodgings because I owe a month's rent and I do not know where to go to."
"The deuce!" said Marcel, shaking his head, "we are not in very good odor with our landlord and our recommendation would be a most unfortunate one, my poor girl."
"What is to be done then?" said Mimi. "The fact is I have nowhere to go."