Everyone seemed to be chattering, smoking, lunching, casting dice, or playing dominoes.
She advanced slowly through a veil of opal mist, feeling her way from side to side with her parasol.
It was like penetrating deeper and deeper into a bath.
She put out her hand in a swimming, groping gesture, twirling as she did so, accidentally, an old gentleman’s moustache.
Thank heaven! There, by that pillar, was a vacant place.
She sank down on to the edge of a crowded couch, as in a dream.
The tall mirrors that graced the walls told her she was tired.
“Bring me some China tea,” she murmured to a passing waiter, “and a bun with currants in it.”
She leaned back.
The realization of her absolute loneliness overcame her suddenly.