"Is it you, Dame Louise?" I asked.
"Yes!" answered the same voice, "it is I, my fine young man."
The old woman took me up a very steep staircase, and stopped upon the
landing of the third story. I recognized then, by the faint glimmer from
a little garret window, the wrinkled face of the burgomaster's widow. A
sly and mawkish smile half opened her toothless mouth, and made her dull
eyes glitter. She pointed out a door. I opened it with a convulsive
movement, and slammed it after me.