The room, lighted only by small square windows, grew darker and darker until Catrina rang for lamps.
"I hate a dark room," she said shortly to Maggie.
When De Chauxville came in, a few minutes later, Catrina was at the piano.

The room was brilliantly lighted, and on the table gleamed and glittered the silver tea-things.

The intermediate meal had been disposed of, but the samovar had been left alight, as is the habit at Russian afternoon teas.
Catrina looked up when the Frenchman entered, but did not cease playing.
"There is no need for introductions, I think," said the countess.
"We all know M.de Chauxville," replied Paul quietly, and the two men exchanged a glance.
De Chauxville shook hands with the new-comers, and, while the countess prepared tea for him, launched into a long description of the preparations for the bear-hunt of the following day.

He addressed his remarks exclusively to Paul, as between enthusiasts and fellow-sportsmen.

Gradually Paul thawed a little, and made one or two suggestions which betrayed a deep knowledge and a dawning interest.
"We shall only be three rifles," said De Chauxville, "Steinmetz, you, and I; and I must ask you to bear in mind the fact that I am no shot--a mere amateur, my dear prince.