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furbelows: German clocks, birdcages, Chinese boxes, replicas of mutilated Roman statues, Venetian mirrors, engravings and paintings of various styles, chosen by theme, since Violette knew nothing of art, musical instruments that no one knew how to play, and even an incomprehensible collection of heavy glass and brass pipes and little wheels that, when put together by Valmorain like a jigsaw puzzle, turned out to be a telescope for spying on the slaves from the gallery. To Toulouse the furniture seemed ostentatious and the adornments totally useless, but he resigned himself because they could not be returned. Once the orgy of spending was concluded, Violette collected her commission and announced that he needed domestic servants: a good cook, maids for the house, and a lady’s maid for Valmorain’s future wife. That was the minimum required, according to Madame Delphine Pascal, who knew all the people of high society in Le Cap.
    â€œExcept me,” Valmorain pointed out.
    â€œDo you want me to help you or not?”
    â€œAll right, I will order Prosper Cambray to train some slaves.”
    â€œOh, no, Toulouse! You will not save that way. Field slaves will not do, they’re brutalized. I myself will look for your domestics,” Violette decided.
    Zarité was nearly nine when Violette bought her from MadameDelphine, a French woman with cottony curls and turkey bosom, along in years but well preserved considering the damages caused by the island’s climate. Delphine Pascal was the widow of a minor French civil servant, but she gave herself the airs of a lofty person because of her relationships with the grands blancs , even though they came to her only for shady transactions. She knew many secrets, which gave her an advantage at the hour of obtaining favors. It appeared that she lived on the pension from her deceased husband and giving clavichord classes to young mademoiselles, but under cover she resold stolen goods, served as a procuress, and in case of emergency performed abortions. She quietly taught French to cocottes who planned to pass as white and who, although their skin was the appropriate color, were betrayed by their accent. That was how the widow had met Violette Boisier, one of the brightest among her students but one with no pretense of appearing French; to the contrary, the girl openly referred to her Senegalese grandmother. She wanted to speak correct French in order to be respected among her white “friends.” Madame Delphine had only two slaves: Honoré, an old man who performed all the chores, including those in the kitchen, whom she had bought very cheaply because his bones were twisted, and Zarité—Tété—a little mulatta who came into her hands when she was only a few weeks old and had cost her nothing. When Violette obtained her for Eugenia García del Solar, the girl was skinny, pure vertical, angular lines, with a mat of very tight curls impossible to comb, but she moved with grace and had noble bones, and beautiful honey-colored eyes shadowed by thick eyelashes. Perhaps she was descended from a Senegalese woman, as was she herself, thought Violette. Tété had learned early on the advantage of silence, and carried out orders with a vacant expression, giving no sign of understanding what was happening around her, but Violette suspected she was much cleverer than could be seen at first glance. Usually Violette did not notice slaves—with the exception of Loula, she thought of them as merchandise—but that little creature evoked her sympathy. They were alike in some ways, although Violette had the advantage of having beenspoiled by her mother and desired by every man who crossed her path. She was free, and beautiful. Tété had none of those attributes—she was merely a slave dressed in rags—but Violette intuited her strength of character. At Tété’s age, she too had been a bundle of bones, until she filled out in