Every position was awkward and uncomfortable, and her burden oppressed her now more than ever because Anatole's presence had vividly recalled to her the time when she was not like that and when everything was light and gay.

She sat in an armchair in her dressing jacket and nightcap and Katie, sleepy and disheveled, beat and turned the heavy feather bed for the third time, muttering to herself.

"I told you it was all lumps and holes!" the little princess repeated.

" I should be glad enough to fall asleep, so it's not my fault!" and her voice quivered like that of a child about to cry.