The room in which he paced to and fro was of a solid dignity,
well fitted to serve as an environment for its owner. It was
very large, and lofty. There was massiveness in the desk that
stood opposite the hall door, near a window. This particular
window itself was huge, high, jutting in octagonal, with leaded
panes. In addition, there was a great fireplace set with tiles,
around which was woodwork elaborately carved, the fruit of
patient questing abroad. On the walls were hung some pieces of
tapestry, where there were not bookcases. Over the octagonal
window, too, such draperies fell in stately lines. Now, as the
magnate paced back and forth, there was only a gentle light in
the room, from a reading-lamp on his desk. The huge chandelier
was unlighted.... It was even as Gilder, in an increasing
irritation over the delay, had thrown himself down on a couch
which stood just a little way within an alcove, that he heard the
outer door open and shut. He sprang up with an ejaculation of
satisfaction.
"Dick, at last!" he muttered.
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