Four candelabra, with ten candles apiece, lit up the supper, and of these one was gorgeous in silver plate with sheaves of flowers to right and left of it.

Everything was luxurious after the restaurant fashion; the china was ornamented with a gold line and lacked the customary monogram; the silver had become worn and tarnished through dint of continual washings; the glass was of the kind that you can complete an odd set of in any cheap emporium.
The scene suggested a premature housewarming in an establishment newly smiled on by fortune and as yet lacking the necessary conveniences.
There was no central luster, and the candelabra, whose tall tapers had scarcely burned up properly, cast a pale yellow light among the dishes and stands on which fruit, cakes and preserves alternated symmetrically.
"You sit where you like, you know," said Nana.

"It's more amusing that way." She remained standing midway down the side of the table.

The old gentleman whom nobody knew had placed himself on her right, while she kept Steiner on her left hand.

Some guests were already sitting down when the sound of oaths came from the little drawing room.