Afterwards they penetrated into the study and the library, where Antonio was accustomed to spend what he called his hours of service. It was a real library, with a thousand volumes artistically bound. Madame had shown Regina some ancient books, an illuminated codex, Ariosto's autograph, said to be genuine, some letters from celebrated authors, amongst them three signed Georges Sand. In spite of her pre-occupation, Regina amused herself looking through the glass of the bookshelves, as the street boys peer into the shop windows. Meantime Antonio glanced at the letters laid on the writing-table at which he was accustomed to dispatch the Princess's correspondence. Regina presently made her way into the little adjoining room, a boudoir where Madame sometimes dined. Antonio followed. They opened the door and found themselves in a wide ante-chamber, which communicated with the garden. A back staircase led to the first floor. But all doors were locked except that of the bath-room. A little water, blue with soap, had been left in the bath. Regina was watching Antonio, but he moved with hesitation, and she thought him unfamiliar with the house. "I want to cross that bridge which connects the two parts of the villa," said Regina, shaking the lobby doors. But everything was locked, so they descended again and went to the kitchen. Tufts of verdure almost blocked the barred window. Still, the golden afternoon light penetrated at the top. A background of flower-garden was discernible, and rose petals had fallen on the shining pavement. A marble table was splendid in the centre of the kitchen. "It's like a church!" said Antonio, merry again. "Suppose we dance a little?" "It's finer than our drawing-room," sighed Regina. "Oh! do be quiet!" But he whirled her away with him round the table. A magnificent black cat, asleep on the dresser, raised his great, round head, opened his orange eyes, and looked at the two liberty-taking people without moving. Regina shuddered, however. "How silly we are!" she said. "Suppose the man were to come in and find us here? I declare I hear steps in the garden! Let us escape!" But Antonio put on the cook's apron, pretended to cook, and, servant-fashion, spoke against the mistress. He suggested that she was a spy of the Russian Government. Regina listened and laughed, but reflected that in this kitchen was perhaps known and discussed that other secret of which she had not been able to rend the unclean veil. She resented Antonio's gaiety, and an accident increased her ill-humour. The cat was still watching, now and then giving an ostentatious yawn. She tried to stroke him, stretching her hand over the dresser. But the cat sprang to a ledge higher up, and upset a flask. Big drops of oil, thick and yellow, rained on her white raiment, spotting it irreparably. She nearly cried with annoyance; foolish words came unconsciously from her mouth. "Even my dress gets stained in this horrible house!"