had been a widow, all the
frequenters of the establishment had wanted her; but people said that
personally she was quite virtuous, and even the girls in the house could
not discover anything against her. She was tall, stout and affable, and
her complexion, which had become pale in the dimness of her house, the
shutters of which were scarcely ever opened, shone as if it had been
varnished. She had a fringe of curly, false hair, which gave her a
juvenile look, that contrasted strongly with the ripeness of her figure.
She was always smiling and cheerful, and was fond of a joke, but there
was a shade of reserve about her, which her new occupation had not quite
made her lose. Coarse words always shocked her, and when any young
fellow who had been badly brought up, called her establishment by its
right name, she was angry and disgusted.

In a word, she had a refined mind, and although she treated her women as
friends, yet she very frequently used to say that "she and they were not
made of the same stuff."

Sometimes during the week, she would hire a carriage and take some of
her girls into the country, where they used to enjoy themselves on the
grass by the side of the little river. They were like a lot of girls let
out from a school, and used to run races, and play childish games. They
had a cold dinner on the grass, and drank cider, and went home at night
with a delicious feeling of fatigue, and in the carriage they kissed
_Madame_ as their kind mother, who was full of goodness and
complaisance.

The house had two entrances. At the corner there was a sort of low
_cafe_, which sailors and the lower orders frequented at night, and she
had two girls whose special duty it was to attend to that part of the
business. With the assistance of the waiter, whose name was Frederic,
and who was a short, light-haired, beardless fellow, as strong as a
horse, they set the half bottles of wine and the jugs of beer on the
shaky marble tables, and then, sitting astride on the customer's knees,
they urged them to drink.

The three other girls (there were only five of them), formed a kind of
aristocracy, and were reserved for the company on the first floor,
unless they were wanted downstairs, and there was nobody on the first
floor. The saloon of Jupiter, where the tradesmen used to meet, was
papered in blue, and embellished with a large drawing representing Leda
stretched out under the swan. That room was reached by a winding
staircase,