Now my bedroom was the corner room of the new buildings on the
part next to the mountains. Hence I could have let myself down into
the flower-garden by my hands on the window-sill on one side,
without danger of hurting myself; while the windows at right angles
with these looked sheer down a descent of a hundred feet at least.
Going still farther along this wing, you came to the old building;
in fact, these two fragments of the ancient castle had formerly
been attached by some such connecting apartments as my husband had
rebuilt. These rooms belonged to M. de la Tourelle. His bedroom
opened into mine, his dressing-room lay beyond; and that was pretty
nearly all I knew, for the servants, as well as he himself, had a
knack of turning me back, under some pretence, if ever they found
