The walls were distempered a reddish-pink colour, and
here and there the colour had run in streaky patches.
"Is it not charming?" exclaimed Madame Wachner. "And now I will show you
our pretty little salon!"
Sylvia followed her out into the hall, and so to the left into the short
passage which ran down the centre of the tiny house.
The drawing-room of the Chalet des Muguets was a little larger than
the dining-room, but it was equally bare of anything pretty or even
convenient. There was a small sofa, covered with cheap tapestry, and four
uncomfortable-looking chairs to match; on the sham marble mantelpiece
stood a gilt and glass clock and two chandeliers. There was not a book,
not a paper, not a flower.
Both rooms gave Sylvia a strange impression that they were very little
lived in. But then, of course, the Wachners were very little at home.
"And now I will get tea," said Madame Wachner triumphantly.
"Will you not let me help you?" asked Sylvia, timidly. "I love making
tea--every Englishwoman loves making tea." She had no wish to be left in
this dull, ugly little drawing-room by herself.
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