This bedroom in which Julie enters is furnished with a mahogany bed with a horse hair mattress. The carvings in the headboard tell a tale of cupids and knights that Julie had on more than one occasion shed a tear for. Tapestries cascade down walls of a solid deep blue, and a single painting of Paris during daytime creates a sheen from the sun’s rays in the golden hues of paint. Crossed window panes bloom light from the outside, and near the window, a cherry wood table stands with a music box atop of it. But were a thief to enter this room, out of all the things described, he’d especially notice the incredibly large wardrobe propped near the wall at the foot of the bed.
Our Julie scans the contents of the wardrobe with apprehension.
Her delicate, dark eyes pass over the jersey from Chanel, the cashmere from Worth, the great many night gowns, tea gowns, crinoline dresses, panniers and bodices. With an ivory hand of slender fingers, she reaches for damask and silk, sifts through petticoat upon petticoat, from the violets, to the deep blues, to the reds. At last, her eyes came upon what her husband hungers for. The scent that appeals to his desires in this woman’s fragrance; an allurement to suffocate him in choking tantrums; then sleep with a sleep like a corpse.
What she wears to appease Edmond is a simple evening gown, of a baby blue color. Roses scatter and trail on thorns stretching throughout the apparel, their once deep red color now tinted with a touch of white from use. Her features are shown in the front, and her hair is pulled back behind her head. Golden lace is threaded around her auburn hair, whilst spit curls fold over her forehead.
Julie exits the bedroom, and peeps over the banister to behold at the landing Edmond standing and gazing up at her. His eyes shift to different areas of her dress, and his hands tremble; Julie’s eyes look towards the floor. Her feminine misery adds bitter flavor to the scene of filthy lust and shame.
She descends from momentary sanctuary and falls into tainted hands.