“Yes, indeed,” she replied, bowing to him, while her clear and sceptical glance—the glance of a virgin—seemed to say in a whisper: “What are you coming here for?” and she rushed up the steps with her head slightly bent over her shoulder.
Madame Arnoux led Frederick into the yard attached to the works, and then explained to him in a grave tone how different clays were ground, cleaned, and sifted.
“The most important thing is the preparation of pastes.”
And she introduced him into a hall filled with vats, in which a vertical axis with horizontal arms kept turning. Frederick felt some regret that he had not flatly declined her offer a little while before.
“These things are merely the slobberings,” said she.
He thought the word grotesque, and, in a measure, unbecoming on her lips.
Wide s
