'Isn't it jolly?
Miss Farrell furnished it.

Sir William let her have it all her own way.' Nelly looked vaguely round the drawing-room, which had a blue Persian carpet, pale purple walls, hung with Japanese colour prints, a few chairs, one comfortable sofa, a couple of Japanese cabinets, and pots of Japanese lilies in the corners.

It was a room not meant for living in.
There was not a book in it anywhere.

It looked exactly what it was--a perching-place for rich people, who liked their own ways, and could not be bored with hotels.
The dining-room was equally bare, costly, and effective.

Its only ornament was a Chinese Buddha, a great terra-cotta, marvellously alive, which had been looted from some Royal tomb, and now sat serenely out of place, looking over the dainty luncheon-table to the square outside, and wrapt in dreams older than Christianity.
The flat was nominally lent to 'Mrs.Sarratt,' but Bridget was managing everything, and had never felt so much in her element in her life.