CHAPTER X.
On the afternoon of the next day, while my two good friends were still occupied by the duties of the office, I stole out to pay my promised visit to Minna and Minna's mother.
It was impossible not to arrive at the conclusion that they were indeed in straitened circumstances.

Their lodgings were in the cheap suburban quarter of Frankfort on the left bank of the river.

Everything was scrupulously neat, and the poor furniture was arranged with taste--but no dexterity of management could disguise the squalid shabbiness of the sitting-room into which I was shown.

I could not help thinking how distressed Fritz would feel, if he could have seen his charming Minna in a place so unworthy of her as this.
The rickety door opened, and the "Jezebel" of the anonymous letter (followed by her daughter) entered the room.
There are certain remarkable women in all countries who, whatever sphere they may be seen in, fill that sphere as completely as a great actor fills the stage.

Widow Fontaine was one of these noteworthy persons.