From the outside, it was just another large, white-painted brick row house, its sign -- a pony silhouette, painted red and decorated with blue and white designs -- affixed to the wall beside an unassuming, black double door. But inside, Artemis was met with a surprising elegance. The smoky aroma of pine and incense overrode the smell of the street, and the burble of a small, artificial waterfall feature at the entrance drowned out the noise of passing carriages. Beyond that was the constant crackle of small, open-walled fireplaces, lined with blackened stones that were fed with aromatic woods. And everywhere, pine-wood floors, waxed and polished to a warm gloss, and so solidly set that she still hadn’t heard so much as a single board creak.