All is dilapidated and ruinous; all is dark in this angle of the great building where light is elaborated.

The specter of a huge window stands yonder.

The panes only half appear; so encrusted are they they might be covered with yellow paper.

The great stones--the rocks--of the walls are upholstered with a dark deposit of grease, like the bottom of a stewpan, and nests of dust hang from them.

Black puddles gleam on the floor, with beds of slime from the scraping of the lamps.
There he lives and moves, in his armored tunic encrusted with filth as dark as coffee-grounds.