"You like things more ornate?"
"More what?"
"More ornate—more highly finished—more elaborate?"
"Yes; don't you?"
He took no notice of that question. "What else would you do?" he asked. The smoke curled up in clouds from the bowl of his pipe as he sat listening to her.
She looked round the room contemplatively.
"Oh—lots of things," she said. "I'd have a sofa—one of those settee sort of things—"
"Upholstered in red?"
"Yes—to go with the carpet. And a comfortable armchair—really comfortable, I mean—something that you could chuck your legs about it—less like a straight jacket than this thing I'm sitting in."
"Upholstered in red?" he repeated.