" And before she
got my answer, she began, without further ceremony, to bundle my papers
together on the table, and put the whole of them into a state of dire
confusion.
My happy mood was blown to the winds; I stood up at once, in anger and
despair. I let her tidy the table, and said nothing, never uttered a
syllable. She thrust all the papers into my hand.
There was nothing else for me to do. I was forced to leave the room. And
so this precious moment was spoilt also. I met the new traveller already
on the stairs; a young man with great blue anchors tattooed on the backs
of his hands. A quay porter followed him, bearing a sea-chest on his
shoulders. He was evidently a sailor, a casual traveller for the night; he
would therefore not occupy my room for any lengthened period. Perhaps,
too, I might be lucky tomorrow when the man had left, and have one of my
moments again; I only needed an inspiration for five minutes, and my essay
on the conflagration would be completed. Well, I should have to submit to
fate.
I had not been inside the family rooms before, this one common room in
which they all lived, both day and night--the husband, wife, wife's
father, and four children. The servant lived in the kitchen, where she
also slept at night. I approached the door with much repugnance, and
knocked. No one answered, yet I heard voices inside.
The husband did not speak as I stepped in, did not acknowledge my nod
even, merely glanced at me carelessly, as if I were no concern of his.
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