In the middle stood an old table with a wretched oil lamp, and opposite the door a great partition, with several smaller doors, some of which were open, and showed that the whole consisted of narrow subdivisions, with hooks for hanging clothes.

The small windows had faded blinds, but on the opposite side of the room the twilight entered through an open door that led to a wooden gallery running along the outside of the house.
Itzig threw down his bundle and went out on this gallery, which he viewed with much interest.

Below him rolled a rapid stream of dirty water, hemmed in on either side by dilapidated wooden houses, most of which had similar galleries to every story.

In olden times, the worthy guild of dyers had inhabited this street, but now they had changed their quarters, and instead of sheep and goat skins, there hung over the worm-eaten railings only the clothes of the poor put out to dry.

Their colors contrasted strangely with the black woodwork; the light fell in a remarkable way upon the rude carvings, and the dark posts that started here and there out of the water.