On the blue cloth of the middle table were four showily-bound volumes, arranged symmetrically.

On the head of the sofa lay a covering worked of blue and yellow Berlin wools.

Two arm-chairs were draped with long white antimacassars, ready to slip off at a touch.

As in the kitchen, there was a smell of cleanlines--of furniture polish, hearthstone, and black-lead.
I should mention the ornaments of the walls.

The pictures were: a striking landscape of the Swiss type, an engraved portrait of Garibaldi, an unframed view of a certain insurance office, a British baby on a large scale from the Christmas number of an illustrated paper.
The one singular feature of the room was a small, glass-doored bookcase, full of volumes.