GR translation: long dying afternoons through conservatory windows

[Mike Jing]

V646.32-40   . . . and who’s this come strolling down the
Schokoladestrasse? Why, it’s Laszlo Jamf himself, grown to a prolonged old
age, preserved like a ’37 Ford against the World’s ups and downs, which are
never more than damped-out changes in smile, wide-pearly to wistfully
gauze, inside Happyville here. Dr. Jamf is wearing a bow tie of a certain
limp grayish lavender, a color for long dying afternoons through
conservatory windows, minor-keyed lieder about days gone by, plaintive
pianos, pipesmoke in a stuffy parlor, overcast Sunday walks by canals . . .

Is the conservatory here the musical kind?  It certainly seems so from what
follows.  Just want to be sure.
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