The room occupied by Cherami was not furnished like the apartments of the Hôtel du Louvre. A blue wallpaper, at thirteen sous a roll, took the place of hangings; but this paper, already old, was torn in several places, and the breaches were concealed by scraps of paper of a different design, and, in many instances, of a different color, which gave to the room a sort of Harlequin aspect which was not altogether disagreeable--especially to those persons who like that costume. Now, Harlequins are very popular in Rue de l'Orillon.
A miserable cot-bed, surmounted by a rod which had never been gilded, and over which was thrown a curtain of yellow cloth much too narrow to surround the bed, stood opposite the window. At the foot of the bed was a screen four feet high, which was supposed to be a protection against the wind that came in under the ill-fitted door. A Louis XVI commode, an old Louis XV armchair, and a desk which claimed to be Louis XIII, with a few common chairs, were all the furniture that the apartment contained. On the mantel were two kitchen candlesticks, a small box of matches, and several cigar-butts, but not a single pipe: Arthur would have deemed himself a dishonored man if he had put a pipe to his lips.
It was noon, and Cherami lay on his bed, having just waked up. He stretched his arms, rubbed his eyes, and, glancing at the window, said to himself:
"On my word, I believe I've had quite a nap! Yes, if I can judge by the sun, which is shining in at my window, the morning must be well advanced. It is often unpleasant not to have a watch; but, at all events, in a furnished lodging-house there should be a clock on each mantel. That villainous Madame Louchard, my landlady, promises me every month that indispensable complement of my furniture, and I am like Sister Anne, I see nothing coming. _Par la sambleu!_ as they say in Marivaux's plays, the rest has done me good, for yesterday was a tiresome day! But it seems to me that I had at least a dozen duels on hand for this morning; the deuce! and I don't know what time it is."
Thereupon Cherami began to knock loudly on the thin partition beside his bed, shouting at the top of his voice:
"Madame Louchard! I say there! Goddess of Cythera! Landlady of the Loves! Venus of La Courtille! hasten hither, I beseech thee.--Come, lady fair; I await thee! I await thee!--Damnation! start your boots, will you!"