This magic spot,
behind the black trunks of trees and masses of inky foliage, breathed
out sweet sounds mingled with bursts of brassy roar, sudden clashes of
metal, and grave, vibrating thuds.
As he walked on, all these noises combined together into a piece of
elaborate music whose harmonious phrases came persuasively through a
great disorderly murmur of voices and shuffling of feet on the gravel of
that open space. An enormous crowd immersed in the electric light, as
if in a bath of some radiant and tenuous fluid shed upon their heads by
luminous globes, drifted in its hundreds round the band. Hundreds
more sat on chairs in more or less concentric circles, receiving
unflinchingly the great waves of sonority that ebbed out into the
darkness. The Count penetrated the throng, drifted with it in tranquil
enjoyment, listening and looking at the faces. All people of good
society: mothers with their daughters, parents and children, young men
and young women all talking, smiling, nodding to each other. Very many
pretty faces, and very many pretty toilettes.
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