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Monsieur Valade heaved a gusty sigh, and Gerald, with heavy diplomacy and a forced heartiness of manner, turned the subject. ‘Of course not,’ snapped his friend. The sun was all but gone now, the horizon a deep shade of purple. He lived on the seventh floor behind a winding set of hallways that towered over her in their grayness. I've sent for the priest. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. ’ The lady sighed and spread her hands.
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