Hung with armour and native embroideries, furnished with divans and screens, which shut off convenient corners, the room was less formal than the others, and was evidently the haunt of youth.

Signor Rodriguez, whom they knew to be the manager of the hotel, stood quite near them in the doorway surveying the scene--the gentlemen lounging in chairs, the couples leaning over coffee-cups, the game of cards in the centre under profuse clusters of electric light.

He was congratulating himself upon the enterprise which had turned the refectory, a cold stone room with pots on trestles, into the most comfortable room in the house.
The hotel was very full, and proved his wisdom in decreeing that no hotel can flourish without a lounge.
The people were scattered about in couples or parties of four, and either they were actually better acquainted, or the informal room made their manners easier.

Through the open window came an uneven humming sound like that which rises from a flock of sheep pent within hurdles at dusk.

The card-party occupied the centre of the foreground.
Helen and Rachel watched them play for some minutes without being able to distinguish a word.