There were curtains here also.

I drew them, but as I did so I glanced back.
Again, as on that earlier night, I saw her face framed in the amber folds--a face laughing, mocking.

With an exclamation of discontent, I threw down my heavy pistol on the floor, cast my coat across the foot of the bed to prevent the delicate covering from being soiled by my boots, and so rested without further disrobing.
In the opposite apartment I could hear her moving about, humming to herself some air as unconcernedly as though no such being as myself existed in the world.

I heard her presently accost her servant, who entered through some passage not visible from the central apartments.
Then without concealment there seemed to go forward the ordinary routine of madam's toilet for the evening.
"No, I think the pink one," I heard her say, "and please--the bath, Threlka, just a trifle more warm." She spoke in French, her ancient serving-woman, as I took it, not understanding the English language.
They both spoke also in a tongue I did not know.

I heard the rattling of toilet articles, certain sighs of content, faint splashings beyond.