I was greatly astonished, not having known before that I stood in such high esteem. Courvoisier threw me a smiling glance as we followed the woman up the stairs, up to the top of the house, where I lived. Throwing open a door, she said there were two rooms which must go together. Courvoisier shook his head.
“I do not want two rooms,” said he, “or rather, I don’t think I can afford them. What do you charge?”
She told him.
“If it were so much,” said he, naming a smaller sum, “I could do it.”
“Nie!” said the woman, curtly, “for that I can’t do it. Um Gotteswillen! One must live.”
She paused, reflecting, and I watched anxiously. She was going to refuse. My heart sunk. Rapidly reviewing my own circumstances and finances, and making a hasty calculation in my mind, I said:
“Why can’t we arrange it? Here is a big room and a little room. Make the little room into a bedroom, and use the big room for a sitting-room. I will join at it, and so it will come within the price you wish to pay.”
The woman’s face cleared a little. She had listened with a clouded expression and her head on one side. Now she straightened herself, drew herself up, smoothed down her apron, and said:
“Yes, that lets itself be heard. If Herr Helfen agreed to that, she would like it.”
“Oh, but I can’t think of putting you to the extra expense,” said Courvoisier.