Tristan opened another door. "Here's my study," he said. "But it's a terrible mess, so you can leave the room alone unless I ask you to clean it." He merely allowed her to glance inside before closing the door again, hoping that there had not been enough time for her to read the titles of the books he had carelessly left on his desk, titles such as Psychopathia Sexualis and Araxes: Ruf nach Befreiung der Urningsnatur vom Strafgesetz and Forschungen über das Räthsel der mannmännlichen Liebe. He had not expected a well-educated maid, and would make sure the room was well 'organized' once he did ask her to clean.

"This way," he said, and he began to lead her up to the next floor. He opened a door. "This is my bedroom. Kindly bring hot water and a towel up in the morning at seven. Once I breakfast you can air it and make the bed. Please remember to put on a clean apron for making the bed..." Did he tell her about the chamber pot?... Nah, he'd leave it for her to find out that chore from a manual. Even Tristan had shame.