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The old woman fumbled in her pocket for her keys, and disappeared

behind the curtain into the other room. The young man, left

standing alone in the middle of the room, listened inquisitively,

thinking. He could hear her unlocking the chest of drawers.

"It must be the top drawer," he reflected. "So she carries the

keys in a pocket on the right. All in one bunch on a steel

ring.... And there's one key there, three times as big as all the

others, with deep notches; that can't be the key of the chest of

drawers... then there must be some other chest or strong-box...

that's worth knowing. Strong-boxes always have keys like that...

but how degrading it all is."

The old woman came back.