The sun slanted westward. From the Tuileries Palace of the twentieth century, looking down the Champs-Élysées, one would see the sun pass through the Arc de Triomphe.
But there was no Tuileries Palace in the twentieth century, nor was there an Arc de Triomphe at the start of the nineteenth. Such a sight could only be seen during the Second French Empire.
The Paulette household servants joined the street lamplighters in lighting the lamps throughout the house. Compared to the age of Louis XIV, the Sun King, Paris had half as much "light," and the streets had become much darker.
The lamps in the Paulette home resembled those Georgiana had seen during her last visit to Madame Récamier's salon. They were all in an "Egyptian revival style."
She remembered seeing a kind of standing candlestick at the Grand Trianon. They were shaped like huge snakes with their mouths open, with the lampshades nestled inside their jaws. Rather than "revival," the style looked as if it had been taken directly from some Ancient Egyptian temple—quite possibly in Lower Egypt.
"This lamp is really unusual." Augereau looked at the bronze lamp shaped like a blindfolded girl with a human body and a snake's tail. "Where did you buy it?"
Paulette smiled disdainfully and lifted her wine to drink.
It had only been a month since Leclerc's death was announced. By the time Georgiana, Laplace, and Pérouet came calling, Augereau was already at the Paulette residence. He had brought quite a few novel and amusing gifts, but Paulette had no interest in him whatsoever.
"Should we use lamps like these too, ma'am?" Pérouet asked.
"Don't we already have crystal chandeliers?" Georgiana said, though she had always felt that such enormous lamps looked as if they might fall at any moment when mounted on