Lady Carstairs said with great satisfaction. She, Pippa, and Maxwell stood at the top of a grand stair, looking down into the ballroom of an elegant, ancient town house. They stood in back of other guests, waiting to be announced. The ballroom was vast, with high vaulted ceilings decorated with soaring and floating cherubs smiling down at the assembly through golden clouds. Satin draperies covered tall windows. In the center of the room, an enormous glowing candle-filled multi-tiered chandelier dripped faceted prisms of glass. Two identical but smaller chandeliers hung to each side at the farther ends of the room. Mirrors were everywhere, magnifying the brightness, size, and magnificence of the room. The walls were covered with expensive floral-patterned stretched papers and, to complement them, blooming floral arrangements that looked like planted gardens occupying every niche. Exotic perfumes, not only from the flowers, drifted in the air. The babble of conversation that drifted to their ears was obviously foreign.
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