midnight
About the doors and windows there were hangings of old lace broidered with flowers in coloured silk whose hues had the very intensity of life . But the sight of sights beneath the sumptuous panelled ceiling adorned with golden roses , the unique spectacle of a richness not to be equalled , was the collection of masterpieces such as no museum could excel . There were works of Raffaelle and Titian , Rembrandt and Rubens , Velasquez and Ribera , famous works which in this unexpected illumination suddenly showed forth , triumphant with youth regained , as if awakened to the immortal life of genius . And , as their Majesties would not arrive before midnight , the ball had just been opened , and flights of soft-hued gowns were whirling in a waltz past all the pompous throng , the glittering jewels and decorations , the gold-broidered uniforms and the pearl-broidered robes , whilst silk and satin and velvet spread and overflowed upon every side . `` It is prodigious , really ! '' declared Prada with his excited air ; `` let us go this way and place ourselves in a window recess again . There is no better spot for getting a good view without being too much jostled . ''