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Glyn, Elinor, 1864-1943

"His Hour"

"
The top passage proved to be wide, but only distempered in two colors,
like the walls of a station waiting-room. Not the slightest attempt to
beautify or furnish with carved chairs, and cabinets of china, and
portraits and tapestry on the walls, as in an English house. In the
passage all was as plain as a barrack.
Tamara's room and the Princess' joined. They were both gorgeously
upholstered in crude blue satin brocade, and full of gilt heavy
furniture, but in each there was a modern brass bed.
They were immense apartments, and warm and bright, monuments of the
taste of 1878.
"Is it not incredible, Marraine, that with the beautiful models of the
eighteenth century in front of them, people could have perpetrated
this? Waves of awful taste seem to come, and artists lose their sense
of beauty and produce the grotesque."
"This is a paradise compared to some," the Princess laughed. "You
should see my sister-in-law's place!"
One bridge table was made up already when they got back to the saloon,
and Sonia, Serge Grekoff and Valonne, only waited the Princess' advent
to begin their game.
It seemed to be an understood thing that Gritzko and his English guest
should be left out, and so practically alone.
"I feel it is my duty to learn to play better," Tamara said, "so I am
going to watch."
He put down his hand and seized her wrist.


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