Thus there was a bas-relief of gold, incomparably soft and bright, shining like a sun in the centre of this dark, smoky room.

The old tools were arranged in the same lines as they had been for centuries--the punches, the awls, the mallets, and the hammers; on the work-frame the little donkey waste-basket and the tinsel, the thimbles and the needles, moved up and down as usual, while in the different corners, where they ended by growing rusty, the diligent, the hand spinning-wheel, and the reel for winding, seemed to sleep in the peaceful quiet which entered through the open window.
Days passed.

Angelique broke many needles between morning and evening, so difficult was it to sew down the gold, through the thickness of the waxed threads.

To have seen her, one would have said she was so thoroughly absorbed by her hard work that she could think of nothing else.

At nine o'clock she was exhausted by fatigue, and, going to bed, she sank at once into a heavy, dreamless sleep.