Couples in boutonnières and ostrich-plume hats paraded self-composedly among the dwarf palms or paused by the Italian Fountain as if thinking about jumping in.
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The dwarf palms I can picture because that's a fancy hotel cliché. But the Italian Fountain? In the middle of the bar? I can guess that's why they call it the Pump Room because they have water pumping in to fill the fountain. But what makes the fountain Italian over Spanish or German or Welsh? I bet it's the added syrup, right?
"as if thinking about jumping in"
Whenever I see people pause by a fountain, I never think, "Oh, I wonder if they're about to jump in." I think the omniscient narrator might be depressed and his mood is infiltrating his descriptions.
"paraded self-composedly"
They're there to be seen. Don't expect them to enjoy themselves. Oh! Maybe that's why they're contemplating jumping in the fountain!
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