She could not wait to dress herself properly, but throwing a petticoat on, she thrust her bare feet into her slippers and glided downstairs. She opened the door into Mr. Tiralla's room almost noisily; she was right, there he lay snoring, his eyes closed, his mouth wide open. Quick, quick! She looked round the room; there stood the old bureau. But, alas, he had got the trousers on in which he always kept the bunch of keys. He had thrown himself on his bed half-dressed; a sock and a trouser-leg were sticking out from under the feather bed which he had drawn around him. A feeling of intense disappointment took possession of her for a moment. But then a look of contempt crossed her face; he was snoring, he would not notice anything. She conquered the feeling of disgust at having to touch him, drew the feather bed away from his massive body that lay there like a felled log, and put her nimble fingers into his pocket. He was as [Pg 215] lifeless as a stone; she hardly considered it necessary to suppress a cry of joy when she held the coveted key in her hand. She ran to the bureau and stuck it into the lock; the desk creaked loudly as she opened it. There were the drawers. Heedless of danger she turned her back on the bed and began to search for the powders. She opened and closed one drawer after the other with an angry bang at not finding what she sought. Where were they, where could they be? Stop! In this drawer, quick, what was that that gleamed so white and new under all those papers yellow with age? It was the box, the box! She stretched out her hand to seize it--but the hand remained poised in mid-air. "_Psia krew_, what are you doing there?" cried Mr. Tiralla. He had awaked. She wheeled round and they gazed at each other with pale faces. She stood there like a delicate, feathery leaf that a breath of wind has caused to tremble; but he was trembling too. Neither of them was capable of saying a word. Mr. Tiralla had not uttered a sound since his first cry; he was like a man who is being choked, and his face grew purple as he struggled for air. What was she doing there, what did she want, what was she looking for? Why did she come so furtively when he was asleep? Did she want to rob him? He had never refused her any money, it could not be that she was looking for. Perhaps it was for the----? He grew rigid with horror, his tongue hung out of his mouth and he gasped and gasped. "Let, let----" He could not say anything more, but fury, fear, and the horror of it all, extorted from him an inarticulate cry like that of an animal. Then she, too, gave a shrill cry and ran out of the [Pg 216] room with hair flying, leaving the drawers and the desk open.