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CHAPTER III.
EVE.
An octagon room, with a vaulted ceiling, without windows but lighted by
a skylight; walls, ceiling, and floors faced with peach-coloured marble;
a black marble canopy, like a pall, with twisted columns in the solid
but pleasing Elizabethan style, overshadowing a vase-like bath of the
same black marble--this was what he saw before him. In the centre of the
bath arose a slender jet of tepid and perfumed water, which, softly and
slowly, was filling the tank. The bath was black to augment fairness
into brilliancy.
It was the water which he had heard. A waste-pipe, placed at a certain
height in the bath, prevented it from overflowing. Vapour was rising
from the water, but not sufficient to cause it to hang in drops on the
marble. The slender jet of water was like a supple wand of steel,
bending at the slightest current of air. There was no furniture, except
a chair-bed with pillows, long enough for a woman to lie on at full
length, and yet have room for a dog at her feet. The French, indeed,
borrow their word canapé from can-al-pié. This sofa was of Spanish
manufacture. In it silver took the place of woodwork. The cushions and
coverings were of rich white silk.
On the other side of the bath, by the wall, was a lofty dressing-table
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