ing of the hinges, the straining of the wooden bed kept rhythmic time.
Evidently they were having their fill of pleasure—for surely they would not take so much trouble for nothing—therefore I concluded that they were doing the thing worth living for.
My curiosity had risen to such a pitch of excitement that I could hardly keep still any longer, my craving to see them flittering was irresistible; I was even ready to put myself into jeopardy to gratify my thirst for this forbidden knowledge.
My first plan was to slip on the floor quietly, and go and peep round the screen, but on second thought I concluded it would be better to stand on the bed and look over that partition of paper.
I therefore got up quietly, holding myself—as well as I could—to the wall, and making as little noise as possible,—as I was very light the bed did not make the slightest sound.
For a little while I could not understand much of what I saw, but by degrees I perceived that the matron was lying on her back
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