1 There was very little furniture in the room.
2 He followed her glance about the room, with its worn furniture and shabby walls.
3 Mrs. Peniston had kept her imagination shrouded, like the drawing-room furniture.
4 It must be pure bliss to arrange the furniture just as one likes, and give all the horrors to the ash-man.
5 Mrs. Peniston again paused, but this time her scrutiny addressed itself, not to the furniture, but to her niece.
6 To attempt to bring her into active relation with life was like tugging at a piece of furniture which has been screwed to the floor.
7 Just beneath it stood the photograph of Lily Bart, looking out imperially on the cheap gimcracks, the cramped furniture of the little room.
8 Mrs. Peniston felt as if there had been a contagious illness in the house, and she was doomed to sit shivering among her contaminated furniture.
9 Analysis and introspection might come later; but for the moment she was not even troubled by the excesses of the upholstery or the restless convolutions of the furniture.
10 There was no other token of her personality about the room, unless it showed itself in the scrupulous neatness of the scant articles of furniture: a washing-stand, two chairs, a small writing-desk, and the little table near the bed.
11 Through this atmosphere of torrid splendour moved wan beings as richly upholstered as the furniture, beings without definite pursuits or permanent relations, who drifted on a languid tide of curiosity from restaurant to concert-hall, from palm-garden to music-room, from "art exhibit" to dress-maker's opening.
12 It may be doubted if such an emotion had ever before been evoked by Carry Fisher's surroundings; but, contrasted to the world in which Lily had lately lived, there was an air of repose and stability in the very placing of the furniture, and in the quiet competence of the parlour-maid who led her up to her room.