She was then at length going to live in that house as vast as a little town, with its interminable staircases, and passages as long and winding as streets.

She was excited by everything: the gray walls with varicolored rugs hanging from windows to dry in the sun, the dingy courtyard with as many holes in its pavement as a public square, the hum of activity coming through the walls.

She felt joy that she was at last about to realize her ambition.

She also felt fear that she would fail and be crushed in the endless struggle against the poverty and starvation she could feel breathing down her neck.

It seemed to her that she was doing something very bold, throwing herself into the midst of some machinery in motion, as she listened to the blacksmith's hammers and the cabinetmakers' planes, hammering and hissing in the depths of the work-shops on the ground floor.