character—of the wrong sort. A sea of baby-blue brocade with a foam of lace upon it. One might have guessed at a glance that this room expressed the soul of an elephantine blonde woman of fifty-odd.
To the left stood an elegant little lacquer table with a carved teak-wood stand upon it supporting in turn a crystal globe. This was a beautiful object, reflecting as it did all the lights in broken shining particles. One can easily
character—of the wrong sort. A sea of baby-blue brocade with a foam of lace upon it. One might have guessed at a glance that this room expressed the soul of an elephantine blonde woman of fifty-odd.
To the left stood an elegant little lacquer table with a carved teak-wood stand upon it supporting in turn a crystal globe. This was a beautiful object, reflecting as it did all the lights in broken shining particles. One can easily
