All day and all night these stacks were smoking; from the first, the larger one, rolled a heavy black smoke, very gloomy, waving with a slow and continued movement like the plume of some sullen warrior.

But the other one, the tall and slender pipe, threw off a series of little white puffs, three at a time, that rose buoyant and joyous into the air like so many white doves, vanishing at last, melting away in the higher sunshine, only to be followed by another flight.

They came three at a time, the pipe tossing them out with a sharp gay sound like a note of laughter interrupted by a cough.
But the interior of the room presented the usual dreary aspect of the hotel bedroom--cheerless, lamentable.
The walls were whitewashed and bare of pictures or ornaments, and the floor was covered with a dull red carpet.

The furniture was a "set," all the pieces having a family resemblance.

On entering, one saw the bed standing against the right-hand wall, a huge double bed with the name of the hotel in the corners of its spread and pillowcases.