M. de Villefaramir had Mme. de Sacqueville-Danglars at his left and Morrie at his right. The face of Villefaramir was gormless; in it was written the memory of many things both louche and criminal. The lady at his side was young and yet not so; her hair was touched by no frost, or at least none that some expert dyeing could not conceal; her white arms and clear face were smooth, as if through the generous application of make-up; yet blasé she looked, and boredom was ever in her glance. The Count was seated between Sacqueville-Danglars and Mme. de Villefaramir; his impeccable cravat, his resplendent Ring, and his dreaded savoir-faire made him look like some incredibly sophisticated host out of ancient gossip. Venerable he seemed as an émigré from the Arnorian Revolution, and yet hale as a gallant in the fullness of his éclat. As for Sacqueville-Danglars, he was d'un certain âge, at best; and his face greedy and beady-eyed and surly; his voice was like an organ-grinder that was badly out of tune; on his brow sat financial savvy, and in his hand was beaucoup d'argent, which was his only attractive feature.
Fair was Mme. de Villefaramir, fair and perilous as an overdose of hashberry; and the light of chandeliers was in her bright eyes. De Brie, fat, red-faced, and hopelessly witty, sat between the two Pseudonimos, and Château-Renard, as vulpinely aristocratic as ever, between Mme. de Villefaramir and Morrie. Mlle. de Sacqueville-Danglars sat across from Andurillo, to her considerable annoyance, as the latter kept trying to engage her in small-talk about her father's wealth.
