"the drawing-room, to which we had now withdrawn for the rest of the evening, was on the ground-floor, and was of the same shape and size as the breakfast-room. large glass doors at the lower end opened on to a terrace, beautifully ornamented along its whole length with a profusion of flowers. the soft, hazy twilight was just shading leaf and blossom alike into harmony with its own sober hues as we entered the room, and the sweet evening scent of the flowers met us with its fragrant welcome through the open glass doors.
("my sanctum" carrick siddell)
how vividly that peaceful home-picture of the drawing-room comes back to me while i write! outside, on the terrace, the clustering flowers and long grasses and creepers waved so gently in the light evening air, that the sound of their rustling never reached us. the sky was without a cloud, and the dawning mystery of moonlight began to tremble already in the region of the eastern heaven. the sense of peace and seclusion soothed all thought and feeling into a rapt, unearthly repose; and the balmy quiet, that deepened ever with the deepening light, seemed to hover over us with a gentler influence still, when there stole upon it from the piano the heavenly tenderness of the music of mozart. it was an evening of sights and sounds never to forget."
excerpted from "the woman in white" wilkie collins