text: [Themes: Fantasy, male protagonist, culinary theme, France, strong NPCs]
  
  > Go downward
  Darkness presses in on every side; nothing is visible, and you are sure only of your own possessions.
  
  > Go up
  Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.
  
  The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.
  
  On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.
  
  The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
  
  > go north
  Originally a salon for the receiving of guests; but in recent years the Count has become increasingly interested in his own projects, and has taken over the entire room for the storage of books. Bookshelves line the walls, reaching above your head, leaving exits only east and south.
  
  A clockwork model of the universe stands in one corner, the planets rotating in their orbits.
  
  On one wall is an enormous portrait of the Count's father, from the hand of Hyacinthe Rigaud.
  
  The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
  
  > examine the bookshelves
  The shelves line both sides of the room from floor to ceiling.
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > search the bookshelves
  You peruse the nearest books. Your eye picks out, at random, On Vegetable Dyes and Clock Repair.
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > take the books
  What, all of them?
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > take the Dyes
  (putting the snuffbox into the sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
  
  > take the Clock Repair
  (putting the sponge into the sack to make room)
  Taken.
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > read the Dyes
  You flip through the pages, becoming transfixed by a discussion of how the Celts, supposedly, were wont to dye clothing in a decoction of powdered lichen and stale piss, brewed together for three weeks and then strained.
  
  But beside this pleasant concoction there are references to others, such as onion skin boiled in water to produce a pleasant yellow.
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > I wide
  You are carrying two books (Clock Repair and On Vegetable
  Dyes), a stone block, a butcher knife, a sword, a hinge-lidded
  teapot (which is open), inside which is not very much water (which leaves some room in the hinge-lidded teapot), a sack (which is open), inside which are a sponge, a snuffbox (which is closed), a white handkerchief, two metal dishes (a plate and a cup), a swordstick and five food items (a bay leaf, a sprig of parsley, a sprig of mint, a clove of garlic and a single yellow onion) and a dashing hat (being worn).
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > look at the handkerchief
  A square of good linen; rather nice, really. It is currently colored white.
  
  The surface of the model Saturn catches the sunlight.
  
  > read the Clock
  A detailed discourse on how to take care of and repair an assortment of common and mechanical clocks. It begins with comprehensible matters, such as pulling up the weights to begin the operation of the pendulum when the clock has stopped, and other bits of routine maintenance; it finishes with diagrams of a clock's inner workings that are almost embarrassingly intimate and far too complex for you to follow.
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > examine model
  Fitted out with tiny planets on arms, and the major moons of the planets, revolving around a center. There is no sun, however; there is only a sort of holder designed to contain something spherical.
  
  Most of the planets are ordinary balls of solid metal, except for Jupiter. They are in motion.
  
  Oddly, the contraption also seems to be linked, and quite unsubtly, to something in the foyer, to the south. You can feel the pull of it.
  
  The planets turn slowly around the empty sun-holder.
  
  Something about the model universe tickles your recollection.
  
  > remember the model
  ...
  
  The Count was standing in the library, tinkering with the model; Marie was bent over it as well, instructing him about what to connect where.
  
  "I will never understand," he remarked to you, "how it is that she has such a mechanical mind. Not the least interest in diplomacy..."
  
  "It is my cold heart, Papa," she replied, tossing aside her clockmaking tools.
  
  "It is done?" he asked her.
  
  "Put the light in," she said, "and then make it go."
  
  You turned away. "Stay and see how it works!" Marie called after you.
  
  "Sorry, infant, the road to Paris is long..."
  
  ...
  
  The model universe clicks.
  
  > examine the jupiter
  Jupiter is a large sphere of copperish metal, though it is pierced through and has a sort of lens inserted in the center.
  
  The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
  
  > take the jupiter
  The planets are not removable.
  
  The planets turn slowly around the empty sun-holder.
  
  > look at the lens
  The lens looks as though, were something in the central holder, it would focus the light out and away.
  
  The little pearl moon revolves around its earth.
  
  > go south
  You're getting pretty hungry.
  
  Extremely spacious. It is its best with a half-dozen servants in livery. The floor is Italian marble, and a small door to the west is concealed by yellow silk hangings.
  
  The main staircase ascends to the corridor on the second floor, and a smaller version leads down into the dim basement. Doors also open north and northeast.
  
  On the wall is one of those mechanical clocks that pop open on the hour, allowing the ingenious internal figures out to play.
  
  The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
  
  > pull the weights
  You give a tug to the weight chain and pull it all the way back up to the top.
  
  The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
  
  > look at the pendulum
  Metal, and shaped like a disc at the end of a rod. As so often.
  
  The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.
  
  > touch the pendulum
  Smooth and cool.
  
  The cuckoo clock ticks sullenly.