Choulette approached Madame Marmet, and said, gravely "Madame Marmet, is
it possible for you to look at a door--a simple, painted, wooden door
like yours, I suppose, or like mine, or like this one, or like any other
--without being terror-stricken at the thought of the visitor who might,
at any moment, come in? The door of one's room, Madame Marmet, opens on
the infinite. Have you ever thought of that? Does one ever know the
true name of the man or woman, who, under a human guise, with a known
face, in ordinary clothes, comes into one's house?"

He added that when he was closeted in his room he could not look at the
door without feeling his hair stand on end. But Madame Marmet saw the
doors of her rooms open without fear. She knew the name of every one who
came to see her--charming persons.

Choulette looked at her sadly, and said, shaking his head: "Madame
Marmet, those whom you call by their terrestrial names have other names
which you do not know, and which are their real names."

Madame Martin asked Choulette if he thought that misfortune needed to
cross the threshold in order to enter one's life.

"Misfortune is ingenious and subtle. It comes by the window, it goes
through walls. It does not always show itself, but it is always there.
The poor doors are innocent of the coming of that unwelcome visitor."

Choulette warned Madame Martin severely that she should not call
misfortune an unwelcome visitor.

"Misfortune is our greatest master and our best friend. Misfortune