She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes. “Men’s waists are neither here nor there; A man scores always, everywhere. I didn’t believe him and I said so. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. ‘Here she is. A dull light shone through the open window blinds and softened the room with parchment yellowness. "Hurrah!" shouted he, waving his hat triumphantly over his head. "Gracious Heavens! this is more wonderful than all the rest," cried the carpenter, rubbing his eyes.
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