Auberge de La Maison Auberge de La Maison - Golden Book Hotels

AUBERGE DE LA MAISON ~ COURMAYEUR
liant,” noted Virginia, captivated by the iridescent,
mother-of-pearl flashes that came from the fake crystal.
Trickles of artfully applied light-coloured paint ran
along the goddess’ arms and buxom bosom, making
them as milky as opals. Princess Virginia felt proud,
because her skin was the same colour. She loosened
her plait. Her hair flowed freely over her shoulders, as
golden as ripe wheat. Even her curls mirrored Venus’s
flowing locks. How had a German painter, arriving in
Rome three centuries before, been able to paint Princess
Virginia as a goddess without ever seeing her?
Cobwebs hung from the flaking shutters. They swayed
in a draught of cold air that raised a cloud of dust. It
enveloped Virginia like an unexpected little whirlwind,
making her turn around just in time to see, from
the corner of her eye, an elderly nobleman walking
in the dim light of the marble corridor leading to the
stairs. He wore a white wig, a blue, fitted coat with
silver buttons, knee-length brown trousers, blue stockings
and buckled leather shoes. He leant on a walking
stick with a carved ivory knob. His waxy, angular face
wore a bitter, dissatisfied grimace.
Virginia’s heart leapt in her chest, but she did not let
the strange apparition frighten her.