Kipling, Rudyard, 1865-1936 / 2008-06-30 00:00:00
Now, let's
try upstairs."
The stairs never creaked beneath their feet. From the broad
landing they entered a long, green-panelled room lighted by three
full-length windows, which overlooked the forlorn wreck of a
terraced garden, and wooded slopes beyond.
"The drawing-room, of course." Sophie swam up and down it. "That
mantelpiece--Orpheus and Eurydice--is the best of them all. Isn't
it marvellous? Why, the room seems furnished with nothing in it!
How's that, George?"
"It's the proportions. I've noticed it."
"I saw a Heppelwhite couch once"--Sophie laid her finger to her
flushed cheek and considered. "With, two of them--one on each
side--you wouldn't need anything else. Except--there must be one
perfect mirror over that mantelpiece."
"Look at that view. It's a framed Constable," her husband cried.
"No; it's a Morland--a parody of a Morland. But about that couch,
George. Don't you think Empire might be better than Heppelwhite?
Dull gold against that pale green? It's a pity they don't make
spinets nowadays.
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