~Three~“You will be all right, you know.” Olympe stood at her elbow, her jet-black hair festooned with small yet brilliant diamonds, a tower of ripples upon her head, her bright red lips slashing across her pale, powdered face.
Jeanne answered her friend with a helpless, fearful expression.
“I think not, ma chérie,” Jeanne whispered, furiously flapping her fan in her face to stave off the heat of anxiety warming her skin.
Her eyes scanned the stupefying scene before them. Everywhere she looked there were prodigious piles…of hair, of jewels, of food. Jeanne stood at the entrance to the Venus Drawing Room, stunned by the abundance of it all. On every table, massive mounds of food rose to extreme heights. Dishes cradled in silver baskets sparkled on every square inch, filled to overflowing
