I opened the door that led into my husband's dressing-room, and entered it, to try if the change would relieve me.
The first object that I noticed was his dressing-case, open on the toilet-table.
I took out the bottles and pots and brushes and combs, the knives and scissors in one compartment, the writing materials in another.

I smelled the perfumes and pomatums; I busily cleaned and dusted the bottles with my handkerchief as I took them out.

Little by little I completely emptied the dressing-case.

It was lined with blue velvet.

In one corner I noticed a tiny slip of loose blue silk.