Along the walls were ranged various pieces of carved furniture,
several large diptychs and triptychs of the Tuscan school of the
fourteenth century; four pieces of Flemish tapestry representing the
Story of Narcissus hung from ceiling to floor; Metaurensian majolicas
occupied two long shelves; stuffs--for the most part ecclesiastical--lay
spread out on chairs or heaped up on tables; antiquities of the rarest
kind--ivories, enamels, crystals, engraved gems, medals, coins,
breviaries, illuminated manuscripts, silver of delicate workmanship were
massed together in high cabinets behind the auctioneer's table. A
peculiar musty odour, arising from the clamminess of the atmosphere and
this collection of ancient things, pervaded the air.
When Andrea Sperelli entered the room with the Princess di Ferentino, he
looked about him rapidly with a secret tremor--Is _she_ here? he said to
himself.
She was there, seated at the table between the Cavaliere Davila and Don
Filippo del Monte. Before her on the table lay her gloves and her muff,
to which a little bunch of violets was fastened. She held in her hand a
little bas-relief in silver, attributed to Caradosso Foppa, which she
was examining with great attention. Each article passed from hand to
hand along the table while the auctioneer proclaimed its merits in a
loud voice, those standing behind the line of chairs leaning over to
look.
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