It hung from the centre of a stout pole, each end of which rested upon the calloused shoulder of a coolie; an ordinary Occidental chair with a foot-rest. She looked, Dorothée said, just as she always looks. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. She had decided that she would spend the next morning answering advertisements in the papers that abounded in the writing-room; and so, after half an hour’s perusal of back numbers of the Sketch in the drawingroom, she had gone to bed.
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