Against the Grain....of the walls
When the Fontenay house was in readiness, fitted up by an architect according to his plans, when all that remained was to determine the color scheme, he again devoted himself to long speculations.
He declared the truth of a theory which had almost mathematical correctness- the theory that harmony exist between the sensual nature of a truly artistic individual and the color which most vividly impresses him.
Disregarding entirely the generality of men whose gross retinas are capable or perceiving neither the cadence peculiar to each color nor the mysterious charm of their nuances of light and shade; ignoring the bourgeoisie, whose eyes are insensible to the pomp and splendor of strong, vibrant tones; and devoting himself only to the people with sensitive pupils, refined by literature and art, he was convinced that the eyes of those among them who dream of the ideal and demand illusions are generally caressed by blue and its derivatives, mauve lilac and pearl grey, provided always that these colors remain soft and do not overstep the bounds where they lose their personalities by being transformed into pure violets and frank grey.
Those persons, on the contrary, who are energetic and incisive, the plethoric, red-blooded, strong males who fling themselves unthinkingly into the affair of the moment, generally delight in the bold gleams of yellows and reds, the clashing cymbals or vermilions and chromes that blind and intoxicated them.
But the eyes of the enfeebled and nervous persons whose sensual appetites crave highly seasoned foods, the eyes of hectic and overexcited creatures have a predilection toward that irritating and morbid color with its fictitious splendors, its acid fevers-orange.