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When she came to herself, she was lying across the bed. Clean and orderly, the room reappeared to view, everything in its right place. Then she was afraid. First the room was empty, then full again. What was she to make ofthat? She wasn't staying here. The heat had made her come over queer. It was too small in that room, too shabby. All of a sudden she might die a lonely death.

She straightened the folds of her crushed skirt, and glided across to the library.

'I've just nearly died,' she said simply. 'It all went black. My heart stopped. Too much work and a bad bedroom. No wonder.'

'What, as soon as you left me, you felt sick?'

'Not sick, it all went black.'

'That's a long time. I have been standing at least an hour by the bookshelves.'

'What, so long?' Thérèse swallowed. She had never been ill since she could remember.

'I shall fetch the doctor.'

'I don't need the doctor. I'd rather move. Why shouldn't I sleep? I need a good night's sleep. The room next to the kitchen is the worst in the house. It's a servant's room. If I had a servant, she'd sleep there. You can't sleep there. You've got the best room yourself. I've a right to the second best, the next one. A man really thinks only he needs to sleep. If things go on like this, I'll be laid up, and where'U you be then? You've forgotten what a servant costs!'

What did she want of him; She was at liberty to move her rooms round as she liked. He didn't care where she slept. Owing to her fainting fit he did not interrupt her. Luckily fainting fits were not a common occurrence. Out of pity — false pity, as he told himself— he made himself listen.

'Who'd think of pestering? One room each. Then nothing can happen. I'm not one of those. Disgusting the way other women go on. Fit to make you blush. I don't need to. I want some new furniture! That large room holds a lot. I'm not a beggar, am I?'

Now he knew what she wanted: furniture again. He had slammed the door open in her face. He, then, was responsible for her fainting fit. Doors should not be flung open so roughly. The shock had affected her. He had been startled himself. She spared him her reproaches; he would allow her the furniture as a compensation. 'You are right,' he said, 'buy yourself a new bedroom suite.'

Immediately after lunch Thérèse glided from street to street, until she had found the best possible furniture shop. Here she listened to the prices of bedroom suites. Not one of them seemed outrageously expensive enough. When the proprietors, two fat brothers, each overreaching the other, at length named a price which would surely be too high for any honest person, she twisted her head round, jerked it towards the door and announced defiantly:

'You gentlemen seem to think my money's not honestly come by.'

She left the shop without further greeting and went straight home, to her husband's study.

'What do you want?' He was furious: at four o'clock in the afternoon she was in his room.

'I have to warn my husband of the price of things. If not, he'll be upset when his wife asks for so much money all of a sudden. The prices of bedroom suites these days! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't credit it. I've looked out a good one, nothing special. Everywhere the same prices.'

Reverentially, she uttered the figure. He felt not the least desire to chew over things which had been decided long ago, that morning even. Hurriedly he wrote out a cheque for the sum she had stated, pointed with his finger to the name of the bank where she was to cash it and then to the door.

Only when she was outside did Thérèse convince herself that the crazy price she had named was really written down on the paper. Then her heart bled for the beautiful money. She didn't need the most expensive bedroom suite. She'd always kept herself respectable and decent. Now that she was a married woman, was that a reason for breaking out; She needed no luxuries. Better buy one for half the price and put the balance in the post-office. Then she'd have something to fail back on. The years she'd have had to work to earn all that money! It's not to be reckoned in years. She'd slave for him plenty more years yet. What would she get out of it? Not a brass farthing! A servant gets more than the mistress. A mistress indeed, she'd have to look out for herself or nothing would ever come of it. Why was she such a fool? She ought to have made an agreement with him at the registry office. She ought to have her wages back again. She'd got the same amount of work to do. She'd got more work than before, there was the dining-room suite and the furniture in his room. It all had to be dusted. That wasn't nothing. She ought to have higher wages. There was no justice anywhere.

The cheque in her hand quivered with indignation.

At supper she put on her most evil smile. The corners of her eyes and mouth met close to her ears. Her eyes in their narrow slits glinted green.

'There'll be no cooking in this house to-morrow. I've no time. I can't be in two places at once.' Curious as to the effect of her words she paused. She was revenging herself on him for his wickedness. She was breaking her contract and talking at table. ' 'Am I to take the first thing I see because of getting your lunch? Lunch happens every day. A bedroom suite is only bought once. More haste less speed. No cooking to-morrow. No!'

'Really not?' A colossal idea had flamed up in his mind, devouring the needs and rights of everyday. 'Really not?' his voice sounded as if he were laughing.

'It's no laughing matter!' she replied, annoyed. 'Work, work, work, morning, noon and night. Am I a servant, then?'

In the highest good humour he interrupted her:

'I ask you only to proceed with caution ! Go to as many shops as you can! Compare the prices with each other before making any decision. Shopkeepers are swindlers by nature. They always think they can make a woman pay double. In the lunch-hour you ought to have a long rest in a cafe and a good lunch, because you were unwell to-day. Don't come home ! The weather is very hot, you will overtire yourself. After lunch you can take your time and look at some more shops. Don't hurry on any account! As for supper, you need have no anxiety. I most strongly advise you to stay out the whole day until the shops close.'

He had forcibly expelled from his memory the fact that she had already found the bedroom suite, and demanded of him the exact sum for it.

"We can always have a bit of cold meat for supper,' said Thérèse, and thought: now he's after me again. It's easy to see when a person's ashamed of himself. Manners indeed, to make a convenience of your wife ! You can do as you like with a servant. Excuse me, but you pay for that. Not with the mistress, though. That's why you make yourself mistress!

When she left the house next morning, Thérèse had already firmly decided only to buy her furniture from that superior young man who had known, as soon as he looked at her, both her age and about her marriage.

She cashed the cheque at the bank and immediately took half the money to the post-office. To inform herself more thoroughly about prices, she visited several furniture stores. She spent most of the morning obstinately haggling. She saw that her calculations about savings were quite right. She would be able to add still more money to them. Her ninth call was to the shop where she had protested at the prices on the previous day. They recognized her at once. The way she held her head and her manner of speaking in jerks impressed everyone who had seen her, once and for all. After their yesterday's experience they showed her the cheaper things. She examined the beds from top to bottom, tapped the wood and put her ear to the bedsteads to find out if they sounded hollow. Things are worm eaten these days even before you buy them. She opened every commode and stuck her nose in to find out whether it had not already been used. She breathed on the mirrors and then polished them over two or three times with a cloth which she had extracted from the two unwilling 'gentlemen'. All the wardrobes aroused her disapproval.

'Nothing would go into these. I ask you what sort of boxes do they make to-day! These may do for poor people. They haven't anything to put away. For our sort of things, we need space.'

They behaved obligingly in spite of her unassuming appearance. They took her for a fool. Fools are embarrassed at leaving without buying something. The brothers' psychology of clients was not exhaustive. It was confined to young couples, whose happiness they successfully kindled with ambiguous advice, to be understood cynically or cosily, according to taste. For the excitement of this elderly person, the pair of them,
bon vivants
and themselves elderly, had no interest left. After half an hour of offering personal guarantees, their zeal declined. Thérèse had been waiting for just this insult. She opened the enormous handbag which she carried under her arm, felt for the stout packet of notes and said pointedly:

'I must just sec if I have enough money with me.'

Before the eyes of the two swarthy, tubby brothers, who had not reckoned on any such contents to her bag, she slowly counted over the notes. 'Merciful heavens, she
has
got money!' Delighted, they thought as one. As soon as she had done, she tucked the notes tenderly away in her bag, snapped it to, and went. On the threshold she turned round and exclaimed: 'You two gentlemen don't seem to value respectable customers!'

She directed her steps towards the superior salesman. As it was already one o'clock she hurried so as to get there before they dosed for lunch. She created quite a sensation; among all the men in trousers and the women in short skirts, she was the only one whose legs, concealed under the starched blue skirt which readied to her feet, functioned in secret. It was clear to every passer-by that gliding was as good as walking. It was even better, for she overtook them all. Thérèse felt all eyes upon her. Like thirty, she thought and began to perspire with haste and pleasure. It gave her some difficulty to keep her head still. She put on an adored smile. Uplifted by her ears, broad wings, her eyes flew up to heaven and settled in a cheap bedroom suite. Thérèse, a lace-trimmed angel, made herself comfortable in it. Yet she did not seem to have fallen from the clouds when all of a sudden she fetched up in front of the shop she knew. Her proud smile was transformed into a joyful grin. She stepped inside and glided over towards the superior young man, swinging her hips with such vigour that her wide skirt billowed about her.

'Here I am again!' she said coyly.

'At your service, dear lady, what an unexpected honour! What brings you back to us, dear lady, if I may ask?'

'A bedroom suite. You know how it is.'

'I thought it must be that, dear lady. A double-bed, naturally, if I am permitted to use the expression.'

'Excuse me, everything is permitted you.' He shook his head, sadly.

'Oh no, not to me, dear lady. Am I the happy man? You would never have married me, dear lady. A poor shop assistant.'

'Why not? You never can tell. Poor people are human too. I don't hold with pride.'

'That's because you have a heart of gold, dear lady. I hope the gentleman you've made happy knows how fortunate he is.'

'I ask you, what are men like these days'

'You surely don't mean, dear lady ... '. The superior young man raised his eyebrows in astonishment. His two eyes were the moist adoring nose of a dog; he nuzzled her gently.

'They take you for a servant. But they pay you nothing at all. A servant gets wages.'

'So you are going to choose yourself a handsome bedroom suite instead, dear lady. This way please! Excellent, first class quality, I knew that you'd be coming again, dear lady, and I specially kept this on one side for you. We could have sold it six times over, honour bright! Your husband will be delighted with it. When you get home, dear lady, welcome home, darling, he'll say. Good afternoon, darling, you'll say, dear lady. I've got a bedroom suite for us both, darling — you follow me, dear lady, that is what you will say, and perch yourself on the gentleman's knee. Excuse me, dear lady, I say what is in my mind, no man could resist that, not a single man in the world, not even a husband. If I were married, I won't say if I were married to you, dear lady, a poor shop assistant like me, how could I dream of such a thing, but if I were married, even to an elderly lady, say to a lady of forty — but there, you couldn't even imagine that, dear lady!'

'Excuse me please, I'm no chicken.'

'I can't agree with you at all, dear lady, with your permission. I dare say you may be a shade over thirty, dear lady, but that's of no consequence. I always say: the important thing about a woman is her hips. Hips a woman must have, hips that can be seen. What's the point of having them at all if they can't be seen? Now here you can see for yourself, here you have the most magnificent... ' Thérèse was on the point of crying out; enraptured, she could not find words. He hesitated an instant and completed the sentence: 'mattresses!'

She had not even glanced at the furniture. He talked her into suitable excitement, he approached his hand within an inch of her quivering hips and at the last minute replaced them by the well-designed, the magnificent mattresses. The gesture of resignation with which — poor shop assistant as he was — he bade farewell to her unattainable hips, moved Thérèse, if anything, even more profoundly. What a day! Here she was running with sweat again. Bewitched, she followed the movements of his lips, of his hand. Her eyes, usually aglint with every malicious light, were peaceful, watery, almost blue, as they obediently appraised the furniture. Of course it was magnificent. The superior young man knew everything. What a lot he knew about furniture! She felt almost ashamed in front of him. A bit of luck, she didn't have to say anything. What might he think of her! She knew nothing about furniture. None of the others had noticed. Why, because the others were stupid. The superior young man noticed everything at once. A good thing she didn't have to say anything. He had a voice like melted butter.