She looked up almost shyly as I passed her with a polite bow.
"Good morning," she said. "Did you sleep well, Monsieur?"
"The wind kept me awake," said I drily.
"And me, also." She glanced out of the stair window, leaning on her
broom. "It is raining very hard," she observed. "The mountains will
not be safe to-day."
"How do you mean?" I inquired coolly, but willing to linger, heaven help
me!
"Avalanches," she explained.
"I see."
We remained silent. Thusis inspected her broom-handle, tucked a curl up
under her white head-cloth.