WHITEWASH
not the kind he wished he might provide—but rooms—one in the wing, where two of ces dames could stay—and one"—he hesitated, and fairly gasped—"over the—the stable."
Sonia's manner was magnificent. As a queen might condescend to accept a lowly state that humbler subjects cavilled at, because, being queen, she dignified whatever lodging she deigned to honor, she inclined her head. "Take us there," she said, "and let Madame Vernon-Château-Lamion know that because of the illness of her child we will permit her to occupy our apartments."
The fat little landlord gulped, and humbly led the way to the dingy hospitality he offered.
"Too bad we can't be together," Shorty wailed, as she inspected the cubby-hole in the wing.
Once more the host, by this time reduced to positive pathos, clamored his excuses.
Sonia silenced him. "This lady," indicating Victoria, "and I will occupy the stable." Again they journeyed through a labyrinth of passages to the much-scorned chamber, which proved to be better than its promise. It was, at least, clean
