The child came running in with the frock, delighted to have got her own way.
"Aye, but it is dirty," said Quarles, and he became absorbed in the garment, nodding to the prattling child as she showed him tucks and lace.
"And now about my pearls," said the contessa.
Quarles put down the frock and stood up.
"There is the case," he said, taking it from his pocket; "we have got to put the pearls into it, Contessa, may I look into your bedroom?"
The request astonished her, and it puzzled me.
"Why, yes, if you like."
She went to the door, and we all followed her.
"A dainty room," said the professor. "It is like you, contessa."
She laughed at the absurdity of the remark, and yet there was some truth in it. The room wasn't really untidy, but it was not the abode of an orderly person. A hat was on the bed, thrown there apparently, a pair of gloves on the floor.