It was well past noon when Dorian finally woke up.
His servant, Victor, had quietly entered the bedroom several times that morning to see whether Dorian was awake. He wondered why his young master was sleeping so late.
Eventually, Dorian rang the bell.
Victor entered softly carrying a cup of tea and a pile of letters on a small tray made of old Sèvres porcelain.
Then he pulled back the olive-colored satin curtains, which had a shining blue lining, from the three tall windows.
“You have slept very well this morning, Monsieur,” Victor said with a smile.
“What time is it, Victor?” Dorian asked sleepily.