Almost at the end of the corridor my mother stopped before a door precisely similar to the others, except that instead of a number or a pasteboard it bore the name in golden letters:
SARAH BERNHARDT
Even then the young actress had evinced her preference for gold. She said that it matched her hair.
Receiving a summons to enter, my mother opened the door and went in, dragging me resolutely after her. Inside this door was another, inscribed in like fashion, and when this in turn was opened, we found ourselves in a large room illuminated by two windows and shaded lights, for it was winter and the windows opened on a courtyard.
This room contained a settee, an armchair, two other chairs and a table, which had three movable mirrors above it. The table was littered with pots and vases of every description and a wild confusion of gold-backed brushes and toilet accessories. A great vase full of carnations stood on it, and another filled with the same flowers was on the floor near one of the windows. The room was carpeted, but the carpet was so littered with envelopes, pieces of paper and various articles of wearing apparel that its design could not be discerned.
Seated before the table-de-toilette was an angel.
Let the reader remember that he is dealing with a child’s memory. My imagination had so been wrought upon by the fearful caverns below that I had fully expected to see, enthroned here, in the upper chambers, His Majesty Satan in all his glory. The sight then of this radiant creature, her head literally crowned with a tumbling glory of gold, came as a tremendous shock—until I recalled that, although that awful place down below must have been Hell, we had mounted upwards since then and must therefore by now have reached Heaven!
As my mother shook hands, I ran behind her and, terror-stricken at I know not what, hid my face in her ample skirts. Then, as though from far away, I heard the divinity speak.
“So this is little Thérèse!” she said. “Come here, ma petite, and let Sarah Bernhardt kiss you!”
But I would not go, and only buried my face all the deeper in my mother’s dress.