"We've brought 'em along pretty well," he said, turning to Howard, who
stood beside him with a fine and cynical smile; then he went up the
white marble steps slowly, carefully ignoring the footmen who had drawn
themselves into a line as if they were a guard of honour, specially
drilled to receive him.
Followed by Howard, his cynical smile still lingering about his thin
lips, Stafford entered the hall.
It was Oriental in shape and design, with a marble fountain in the
centre, and carved arches before the various passages. The principal
staircase was also of white marble with an Indian carpet of vivid
crimson. Palms reared their tall and graceful heads at intervals,
shading statuary in the prevailing white marble. Hangings of rose
colour broke the sameness and accentuated the purity of the predominate
whiteness.
Howard looked round with an admiration which obliterated his usual
cynicism.
"Beautiful!" he murmured.
But Stafford frowned. The luxury, the richness of the place, though
chaste, jarred on him; why, he could not have told.
Suddenly, as they were making their way through the lines of richly
liveried servants, a curtain at one of the openings was thrown aside,
and a gentleman came out to meet them.
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