"Let me see!" He walked half the length of the floor and began studying the walls and the bare rafters of the ceiling.

These last had once been yellow-washed, age and dust having turned the kalsomine to an old-gold tint, reminding him of a ceiling belonging to a Venetian palace.
"Yes," he continued, with the same abstracted air, his head upturned, "there's a good place for hanging a big lamp, if there is one in the new lot, and there are spots where I can hang twenty or more smaller ones.
I will cover the side walls with stuffs and embroideries and put those long Italian settees against--yes, Tweety-kins, it will come out all right.

It will make a splendid banquet hall! And after the party we will leave it just so.

Fine, my child! And I have an idea, too--a brilliant idea.

Hans, ask Mr.Kling to be good enough to come up here!" With the surrender of her Uncle Felix, Masie resumed her spinning around the room and kept it up until the father's bald head showed clear above the top of the stairs.
"Masie has had one brilliant idea, Mr.Kling, and I have another.