Mary Cassatt painting

Mary Cassatt painting
"I assure you, sir, I never lave my front door open," she answered hastily. "You needn't be at all afraid of that!"
And then, through the closed door of the sitting-room, came the sound of Bunting coughing - it was just a little, hard cough, but Mrs. Bunting's future lodger started violently.
"Who's that?" he said, putting out a hand and clutching her arm. "Whatever was that?"
Mary Cassatt painting
"Only my husband, sir. He went out to buy a paper a few minutes ago, and the cold just caught him, I suppose."
"Your husband - ?" he looked at her intently, suspiciously. "What - what, may I ask, is your husband's occupation?"
Mrs. Bunting drew herself up. The question as to Bunting's occupation was no one's business but theirs. Still, it wouldn't do for her to show offence. "He goes out waiting," she said stiffly. "He was a gentleman's servant, sir. He could, of course, valet you should you require him to do so."
Mary Cassatt painting