{"id":"01KG8AKWG62559V7W5Q3EJXQMT","cid":"bafkreih5snxyjq6zdpcgbmc7ndtmh4piuh2uha4btrfg6nex5rq5e7m7ya","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":9017,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:14.842Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","start_line":8942,"text":"CHAPTER XLVI.\r\nA MYSTERIOUS NIGHT IN LONDON\r\n\r\n\r\n“No time to lose,” said Harry, “come along.”\r\n\r\nHe called a cab: in an undertone mentioned the number of a house in\r\nsome street to the driver; we jumped in, and were off.\r\n\r\nAs we rattled over the boisterous pavements, past splendid squares,\r\nchurches, and shops, our cabman turning corners like a skater on the\r\nice, and all the roar of London in my ears, and no end to the walls of\r\nbrick and mortar; I thought New York a hamlet, and Liverpool a\r\ncoal-hole, and myself somebody else: so unreal seemed every thing about\r\nme. My head was spinning round like a top, and my eyes ached with much\r\ngazing; particularly about the corners, owing to my darting them so\r\nrapidly, first this side, and then that, so as not to miss any thing;\r\nthough, in truth, I missed much.\r\n\r\n“Stop,” cried Harry, after a long while, putting his head out of the\r\nwindow, all at once—“stop! do you hear, you deaf man? you have passed\r\nthe house—No. 40 I told you—that’s it—the high steps there, with the\r\npurple light!”\r\n\r\nThe cabman being paid, Harry adjusting his whiskers and mustache, and\r\nbidding me assume a lounging look, pushed his hat a little to one side,\r\nand then locking arms, we sauntered into the house; myself feeling not\r\na little abashed; it was so long since I had been in any courtly\r\nsociety.\r\n\r\nIt was some semi-public place of opulent entertainment; and far\r\nsurpassed any thing of the kind I had ever seen before.\r\n\r\nThe floor was tesselated with snow-white, and russet-hued marbles; and\r\nechoed to the tread, as if all the Paris catacombs were underneath. I\r\nstarted with misgivings at that hollow, boding sound, which seemed\r\nsighing with a subterraneous despair, through all the magnificent\r\nspectacle around me; mocking it, where most it glared.\r\n\r\nThe walls were painted so as to deceive the eye with interminable\r\ncolonnades; and groups of columns of the finest Scagliola work of\r\nvariegated marbles—emerald-green and gold, St. Pons veined with silver,\r\nSienna with porphyry—supported a resplendent fresco ceiling, arched\r\nlike a bower, and thickly clustering with mimic grapes. Through all the\r\nEast of this foliage, you spied in a crimson dawn, Guide’s ever\r\nyouthful Apollo, driving forth the horses of the sun. From sculptured\r\nstalactites of vine-boughs, here and there pendent hung galaxies of gas\r\nlights, whose vivid glare was softened by pale, cream-colored,\r\nporcelain spheres, shedding over the place a serene, silver flood; as\r\nif every porcelain sphere were a moon; and this superb apartment was\r\nthe moon-lit garden of Portia at Belmont; and the gentle lovers,\r\nLorenzo and Jessica, lurked somewhere among the vines.\r\n\r\nAt numerous Moorish looking tables, supported by Caryatides of turbaned\r\nslaves, sat knots of gentlemanly men, with cut decanters and\r\ntaper-waisted glasses, journals and cigars, before them.\r\n\r\nTo and fro ran obsequious waiters, with spotless napkins thrown over\r\ntheir arms, and making a profound salaam, and hemming deferentially,\r\nwhenever they uttered a word.\r\n\r\nAt the further end of this brilliant apartment, was a rich mahogany\r\nturret-like structure, partly built into the wall, and communicating\r\nwith rooms in the rear. Behind, was a very handsome florid old man,\r\nwith snow-white hair and whiskers, and in a snow-white jacket—he looked\r\nlike an almond tree in blossom—who seemed to be standing, a polite\r\nsentry over the scene before him; and it was he, who mostly ordered\r\nabout the waiters; and with a silent salute, received the silver of the\r\nguests.\r\n\r\nOur entrance excited little or no notice; for every body present seemed\r\nexceedingly animated about concerns of their own; and a large group was\r\ngathered around one tall, military looking gentleman, who was reading\r\nsome India war-news from the Times, and commenting on it, in a very\r\nloud voice, condemning, in toto, the entire campaign.\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG8AJSA71QVQSMQ91CQK3MDT","peer_type":"chapter","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG89J1GP71YDJ60P8SRH97MF","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG89HMDZKNY753EZE1CJ8HZW","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AKX4SMGAN0RTB5G8A3FBQ","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:48:18.950Z","ts":"2026-01-30T20:48:32.691Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}