Explore "The Log" by Guy De Maupassant on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a small drawing room, with thick hangings, and with a faint aromatic smell of scent in the air. A large fire was burning in the grate, and one lamp, covered with a shade of old lace, on the corner of the mantelpiece threw a soft light on to the two persons who were talking.
She, the mistress of the house, was an old lady with white hair, one of those adorable old ladies whose unwrinkled skin is as smooth as the finest paper, and is scented, impregnated with perfume, the delicate essences used in the bath for so many years having penetrated through the epidermis. An old lady who, when one kisses her hand, smells of the delicate perfume which greets the nostrils, when a box of Florentine iris powder is opened.