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In the Wrong Paradise by Andrew Lang
page 18 of 190 (09%)
broad stone steps and stood within the doorway. I was certainly much
surprised at what I saw. There was a rude magnificence about this house
such as I had never expected to find in the South Sea Islands. Nay,
though I am not unacquainted with the abodes of opulence at home, and
have been a favoured guest of some of our merchant princes (including
Messrs. Bunton, the eminent haberdashers, whose light is so generously
bestowed on our Connection), I admit that I had never looked on a more
spacious reception-room, furnished, of course, in a somewhat savage
manner, but, obviously, regardless of expense. The very threshold
between the court and the reception-room, to which you descended by
steps, was made of some dark metal, inlaid curiously with figures of
beasts and birds, also in metal (gold, as I afterwards learned), of
various shades of colour and brightness.

At first I had some difficulty in making out the details of the vast
apartment which lay beyond. I was almost dizzy with hunger and fatigue,
and my view was further obscured by a fragrant blue smoke, which rose in
soft clouds from an open fireplace in the middle of the room. Singular
to say, there was no chimney, merely a hole in the lofty roof, through
which most of the smoke escaped. The ceiling itself, which was supported
by carved rafters, was in places quite black with the vapour of many
years. The smoke, however, was thin, and as the fuel on the fire, and on
the braziers, was of dry cedar and sandal-wood, the perfume, though
heavy, was not unpleasant. The room was partly illuminated by the fire
itself, partly by braziers full of blazing branches of trees; but, what
was most remarkable, there were rows of metal images of young men (naked,
I am sorry to say), with burning torches in their hands, ranged all along
the side walls.

A good deal of taste, in one sense, had been expended in making these
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