)
"Yes, I'm just turning the key," replied Lily. "Go along. I'll
follow."
Win went on through the dusk, dimly seeing panelled walls. She heard
the door shut sharply behind her and supposed that Lily had come in,
but at the same instant another door opened ahead and a soft wave of
rosy light flowed out.
"Walk in, if you please, miss," requested the tall servant standing
attentive, and mechanically Win obeyed.
Lily Leavitt had not exaggerated--this was a "swell house," and "cool
as snow." The room into which she had been ushered was a dining-room,
and at first glance was all one rosy glow--walls, drawn curtains,
thick, mossy carpet, brocade-upholstered furniture, lamps and candle
shades. The table was a shining bunch of lilies in a garden of
deep-red roses seen at sunset, and the glitter of silver and gleam of
glass was a bright sprinkle of dewdrops catching the red western
light.
It was so long since Win had been in a pretty room or had seen a
charmingly decorated table that for a few seconds she lost herself in
the sheer joy of beauty. The sunset-garden simile flashed into her
mind and pleased her. She was glad that she had come.
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