I hastened up the steps. Bessy lived on the third floor.... To get to her rooms I had to follow the open corridor which led down to the courtyard. I passed on my way the lodgings of a milliner, a female pawnbroker, and a lady who supplied families with servant-maids, and all three poked their heads out of their windows and watched me disappear.
On reaching Bessy's number, I found, tugging at the bell-rope, a red-peluched young coxcomb. The door was about a fourth part open, and the face of the vicious looking cook was protruding out of it. She dismissed the visitor with curt ceremony.
"My mistress is not at home!"
We nearly trod each other's spurs off as we cannoned against each other in the narrow corridor.
A minute afterwards the countenance of the self-same cook, rounded into complete amiability, again appeared, and she said to me:
"Would you do us the honour to walk in?"
And she held the door wide open for me.
You should have seen the face which my red furbelowed gentleman made at this. It was not enough for him to open his eyes and mouth at me; he stuck his pince-nez on the bridge of his nose as well.
That will mean a duel for me to-morrow.
Meantime, however, I was master of the situation.