Henri Rousseau Eve

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The marble became clear, like a window, looking into another brightly lit space. There were things in there, indistinct and melted-looking, but no way in to them.
The chatter of the Winkings flowed over him as he crepe forward. ‘- more of a vaultette, really. But he got a dungeon in, even if you have to go out into the hall to shut the door properly -‘ Gentility meant all sorts of things, Windle thought. To some people it was not being a vampire. To others it was a matched set of flying plaster bats on the wall.
He ran his fingers over the clear substance. The world here was all rectangles. There were corners, and the corridor was lined on both sides with the clear panels. And the non-music played all the time. It couldn’t be alive, could it? Life was . . . more rounded.
‘What do you think, Lupine?’ he said.
Lupine ’
They looked up. A trolley whirred out of the mouth of a side corridor and skidded away down another on the opposite side of the passage. ‘Them?’ said Ludmilla.
‘I shouldn’t think so. I think they’re more like servants. Like ants. Bees in a hive, maybe.’
‘What’s the honey?’barked.‘Hmm. Not a lot of help.’Ludmilla knelt down and put her hand on Windle’s shoulder.‘What did you mean, no-one built it?’ she said.Windle scratched his head.‘I’m not sure . . . but I think maybe it was . . . secreted.’‘Secreted? From what? By what?
‘Not sure. But it’s not ripe yet. I don’t think things