The wide green door, set far back in a recess not unlike a kiosk, was opened by a man-servant who might easily have been mistaken for a waiter from Delmonico's or Sherry's. He did not have the air or aplomb of a butler, nor the smartness of a footman. On the contrary, he was a thick-set, rather scrubby sort of person with all the symptoms of cafe servitude about him, including the never-failing doubt as to nationality. He might have been a Greek, a Pole, an Italian or a Turk.
"Say to Mrs. Collier, Nicholas, that Mr. Barnes is here for dinner," said De Soto. "I will make the cocktails this evening."
Much to Barnes's surprise,--and disappointment,--the interior of the house failed to sustain the bewildering effect produced by the exterior. The entrance hall and the living-room into which he was conducted by the two men were singularly like others that he had seen. The latter, for example, was of ordinary dimensions, furnished with a thought for comfort rather than elegance or even good taste. The rugs were thick and in tone held almost exclusively to Turkish reds; the couches and chairs were low and deep and comfortable, as if intended for men only, and they were covered with rich, gay materials; the hangings at the windows were of deep blue and gold; the walls an unobtrusive cream colour, almost literally thatched with etchings.
Barnes, somewhat of a connoisseur, was not slow to recognise the value and extreme rarity of the prints. Rembrandt, Whistler, Hayden, Merryon, Cameron, Muirhead Bone and Zorn were represented by their most notable creations; two startling subjects by Brangwyn hung alone in one corner of the room, isolated, it would seem, out of consideration for the gleaming, jewel-like surfaces of other and smaller treasures. There were at least a dozen Zorns, as many Whistlers and Camerons.
O'Dowd, observing the glance of appreciation that Barnes sent about the room, said: "All of thim are in the very rarest state. He has one of the finest collections in America. Ye'll want your boots cleaned and polished, and your face needs scrubbing, if ye don't mind my saying so," he went on, critically surveying the visitor's person. "Come up to my room and make yourself tidy. My own man will dust you off and furbish you up in no time at all."
They passed into another room at the left and approached a wide stairway, the lower step of which was flush with the baseboard on the wall. Not so much as an inch of the stairway protruded into the room, and yet Barnes, whose artistic sense should have been offended, was curiously pleased with the arrangement and effect. He made a mental note of this deliberate violation of the holy rules of construction, and decided that one day he would try it out for himself.