She was dressed, or rather wrapped, in a magnificent purple velvet
dressing-gown, trimmed with sable, and tied round her ample waist with
a silver cord; her rather scanty grey hair stood out about her head
like a cloud in a high wind; and her plump hands were encased in a
pair of old white gloves, which looked oddly out of place. She was
standing in the middle of the room, and she smiled calmly as the
Baroness entered. On a beautiful inlaid table beside her stood a
battered brass tray with an almost shapeless little brass coffee-pot,
a common earthenware cup, chipped at the edges, and three pieces of
doubtful-looking sugar in a tiny saucer, also of brass. The whole had
evidently been brought from a small cafe near by, which had long been
frequented by the servants from the palace.
Judging from her smile, the Princess seemed to think total ruin rather
an amusing incident. She had always complained that the Romans were
very dull; for she was not a Roman herself, but came of a very great
old Polish family, the members of which had been distinguished for
divers forms of amiable eccentricity during a couple of centuries.
She looked at the Baroness, and smiled pleasantly, showing her still
perfect teeth.
"I always said that this would happen," she observed. "I always told
my poor husband so.
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