Six circular tables surround a seventh which will be set with drinks and ice. Each of the six tables are laid out with six settings. The thirty-six chairs are wood, painted gold with red cushioned seats. The Great Hall is white marble. A glass is dropped. The sound of its breaking fills the room and the ear for a moment, transcends the hearing of it, then is gone. Glass lies on the floor. On the terrace of the second tier of the hall eight sculptures glance downwards, plaster copies of Roman copies of Greek originals. They are ready to fall upon the marble tiles themselves as they have no doubt in previous incarnations done before. Natural light enters the one hundred and eighty-nine glass skylights and cools the already placid hall. The twenty columns of the Great Hall cast almost no shadows. All is clear and without contrast. An exotic element suddenly appears on each table. Six arrangements of plants, blooming unexpectedly, swell in the dominant central position.