But they walked on and rang at the hall door of the villa, or rather of the villas, for there were two; small but handsome houses, joined by an aërial terrace or hanging garden.
"Like two little brothers holding each other's hands," said Regina, with a sigh.
A servant in plain clothes opened the polished door, and disclosed two great wolves, apparently alive, lying in ambush on the red rugs of the entrance hall.
The rooms were much overheated. Thick carpets, skins of bears spread before large low divans, themselves covered with furs, exhaled what seemed the hot breath of wild beasts sleeping in the sun—an atmosphere wild, voluptuous, noxious. Huge waving branches of red-berried wild plants rose from tall metal vases. The Princess, richly but clumsily dressed in black velvet and white lace, was discoursing in French to two elderly ladies, telling them the adventures of her aunt, wife of the man who had known Georges Sand.
"At that time," she was saying, "my aunt was the best dressed woman in Paris. Georges Sand described one of her costumes in the Marquis de Villemer...."
Beyond the two elderly ladies, an old gentleman, shaven and bald, his head shining like a bowl of pink china, lolled in an arm-chair and listened sleepily.
Marianna, in a low pink dress, ran to the new-comers with her little rat-like steps, and surveyed Regina inquisitively.
"You look very well, Madame," she said; "is there no news?"
"What news do you expect?" asked Regina.