Bosio, without giving his name, was ushered into a small sitting-room, of which the only window opened upon a narrow court opposite a blank wall.

The furniture was scant and stiff, and such of it as was upholstered was covered with a cheap cotton corded material of a spurious wine colour.

There were small square antimacassars on the chairs, and two of them, side by side, on the back of the sofa.

The single window had heavy curtains, now drawn aside, but evidently capable of shutting out all light.

A solid, square, walnut table stood before the sofa, without any table-cloth, and upon it were arranged half a dozen large books, bound with a good deal of gilding, and which looked as though they had never been opened.
Bosio was standing before the window, looking out at the blank wall, when he heard some one enter the room and softly close the door.
Giuditta Astarita came forward as he turned round.
He saw a heavy, phlegmatic woman, still very young, though abnormally stout, with an unhealthy face, thin black hair and large weak eyes of a light china blue.