They went. He heard them shut the door softly, carefully. Then he nodded his head with satisfaction: they were not so bad, they had not waked the souls.... He heard them whispering on the landing, with those two beasts, the landlady and her brother. He got up, crept to the door, tried to listen. But he could not make out what they said.
Then he laughed contemptuously, because he thought them stupid, devoid of eyes, ears, heart or feeling:
"Wretched brutes, infernal brutes!" he muttered fiercely, clenching his fists.
A mortal weariness stole over him. He went to his bedroom, let down the blinds and got into bed, feeling that he would sleep.
All around him lay the souls: the whole room was full of them.
[1] Nicolette.
[2] Gerard.
CHAPTER II
Old Mrs. van Lowe's neighbours thought it a funny thing that, after dinner that evening, the whole family arrived, one after the other, rang the bell and went in, though it was not Sunday. Except on those "family-group" Sundays, there was never much of a run on Mrs. van Lowe's door. And they wondered what could be the matter; and, as it was very warm, an August day, they opened all the windows, kept looking across the street and even sent their maids to enquire of Mrs. van Lowe's maids. But the maids did not know anything: they only thought it must be something to do with the young mevrouw, the one in Paris—Mrs. Emilie, as they called her—who had gone off with her brother.