She was made to go all over the
large, rather gloomy house, and to peep into each of the bare, ugly
bed-rooms.
That which Anna had engaged had a window looking over the back of the
house; Sylvia thought it singularly cheerless. There was, however, a good
arm-chair and a writing-table on which lay a new-looking blotter. It was
the only bed-room containing such a luxury.
"An English lady was staying here not very long ago," observed M.
Malfait, "and she bought that table and left it to me as a little gift
when she went away. That was very gracious on her part!"
They glanced into the rather mournful-looking _salon_, of which the
windows opened out on the tiny garden. And then M. Malfait led them
proudly into the dining-room, with its one long table, running down the
middle, on which at intervals were set dessert dishes filled with the
nuts, grapes, and oranges of which Sylvia had already become so weary at
the Hotel de l'Horloge.
"My clientele," said M. Malfait gravely, "is very select and _chic_.
Those of my guests who frequent the Casino all belong to the Club!"
He stated the fact proudly, and Sylvia was amused to notice that in this
matter he and mine host at the Villa du Lac apparently saw eye to eye.
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