Mr. Baruch looked at the arrangement critically. He was a connoisseur
in perfection, and something was lacking. It eluded him for a moment
or two and then, suddenly, like an inspiration, he perceived it. The
rug the thing delicate as silk, with its sheen, its flush of hues,
with the white slumbering face above it! The picture, the perfect
thing he saw it!

By mikeb, November 24, 2012.

Found in Those Who Smiled, authored by Perceval Gibbon.