There was Ball at the Countess residence.
At the door of the mansion countless vehicles arrived, the highly dressed and profusely fragranced guests descended from them making their way into the hall where they crossed each other, men highlighting their tall postures, women showcasing their alluring figures.
They were all heading to this huge square room. In this vast room, a marble table with intricate designs were at every corner, from the elaborate gold and semicircular ceiling hanged a chandelier of sixty lumens, adorned with artificial flowers and green glasses, the furniture with its satiny blue upholstery completed the perfect balance and symmetry which would rivals with the most enchanted gardens of Granada.
The open windows betray the secrets of lovers, the sounds of the orchestra playing waltz travels like lightening through the square.
Through the shadow of the grove, a shallow light would fantastically sparkle, and it would awaken the birds in their nests.
The moon, bright and high a sweet companion of sorrow, illuminating space, sea and solitude.
The flowers spill some acrid and intoxicating aromas. In a splendid porcelain Sevres vase, a camellia mimosa opens its long, velvety petals.
Some exotic oriental plants, adorn the tiled space of the bay windows.
The Countess entered the room. All groups cease to talk. Around her everywhere is crowded, everything is disconcerted, everything is a shamble.
The waltz starts again. The strange images that occupy the hall on this night, reflects in the crystal mirrors. Over the shining marbled floor artificial feather creatures --poor featherless birds made of stone and bald.
The wind blows and curtains of the window flutter sweetly:
"Would you grant me this waltz?" says a gentleman, offering his arm to a gentle lady of twenty years, thus interrupting the conversation,
"But pardon, Lady Countess... well, see that in my position..."
"Follow me, Alfred"
And the two proceeded to a nearby room, situated to the right of the hall.
The servants served the tea.
On the porch the gentlemen smoked and talked. Some ladies redid their makeup, partly undone duo to the arduous dance. "And do you believe Lady countess that I could really devote to you in the conditions in which I find myself?"
"And why not, Alfred, if I love you madly."
The room was very comfortable. Some dark furniture garrisoned her sadly. Along the wall stood out some dark, gentle, fantastical pictures. The pendulum in longcase clock swung as if to remind us of a painful pulse.
The Countess, casually sitting in a soft sofa, rolled her nervous eyes towards the prom door.
'No one will hear us' she thought to herself.
A noise interrupted the dialogue.
The orchestra played a new song, and an elegant young man entered the room.
"I come to remind you, my lady, that this dance belongs to me."
The Countess accompanied him.
Alfred was left alone, he gnawed a cigar furiously, when another noise awakened him.
In front of him, and threatening him with a dagger, was a boy, full of fever, hatred, and revenge.
"I heard everything--exclaimed the intruder. Either you promise me never to love the Countess, or I murder you here, like a wretch you are."
"Never!" shouted Alfred, snatching the dagger from his hand - "You'll fall first, you wretch. Now, out of this house..."
This incident, of course, disturbed the band, which was then dancing. They all rushed. The two contenders had disappeared from the room.
The ball continued.