id; but suddenly he restrained
himself.

The Swiss stood at the door; at the top of the stairs was another
servant. So, raising his hat to his daughter, he finished the
conversation in a language understandable to the servants:

"Pardon me; I have no time. I shall be late. We will finish this
conversation another time."

When the carriage, whining on the snow, rolled along the crowded
streets of the city, in the light of the streetlamps which fell
on it, appeared Darvid's face, with an expression of terror. That
pallid, thin face, with ruddy whiskers, and a collar of silvery
fur, was visible for a moment with eyes widely open, with raised
brows, with the words hanging on his lips: "She knows
everything!--ghastly!" and after a while it sank again into the
darkness which filled the carriage.

CHAPTER VI

For the first time surely in that city, separated from England by
lands and seas, a certain number of people, very limited, it is
true, might admire small, bachelor's apartments, fitted up with
tapestry, sculpture, and stained-glass, from the London factory
of Morris, Faulkner, Marshall & Co. The drawing-room was not
large, but there was in it absolutely nothing which had its
origin elsewhere than in that factory founded by a famous poet
and member of the pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood. The famous poet and
artist, William Morris, had become a manufacturer for the purpose
of correcting aesthetic taste in the multitude, and filling
people's dwellings with works of pure beauty. The objects in this
apartment were really beautiful. The tapestry on the walls
represented a series of pictures taken from romances of
knighthood, and from marvellous legends: Tristan and Isolde, on
the deck of a ship; Flor and Blancheflor, in a garden of roses;
the monk Alberich, in a Dominican habit, descending into hell.
The tapestry on the furniture was full of winged heads and
fantastic flowers; on all sides were seen great art in weaving
and masterly borders, which recalled the margins of old
prayer-books. Dulled and dingy colors, producing the impression
of things which had emerged from the mist of ages, and only glass
window-screens, framed in columns and pointed arches, were
brilliant with the colors of rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. The
window-panes were stained with roses and with the figures of
saints having pale profiles and wearing bright robes. On one of
the tables was a bronze pulpit in the form of a Gothic chapel; in
anoth