It evoked a sort of devil in him.
He took his bath: the man had brought back his things: he dressed and went downstairs.

No one in the lounge: he went down to the ground floor: no one in the big hall with its pillars of yellow marble and its gold arches, its enormous, dark, bluey-red carpet.

He stood before the great glass doors.

Some red flowers still were blooming in the tubs, on the steps, handsome: and beautiful chrysanthemums in the wide portico.
Beyond, yellow leaves were already falling on the green grass and the neat drive.

Everywhere was silent and empty.