Sharp-Edged

Dark wood panelling, heavy red velvet curtains, squat leather armchairs, low lighting that made the painted ceiling and wall-borne frescoes seem even more distant than they were, a marble counter where a cocktail was being briskly shaken into existence, rows of bottles illuminated from behind to produce the effect of a smouldering fire – the bar of the Meurice provided the hotel’s guests with a place where wit and wickedness could flourish without being overheard.