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I am sure that I could not have moved an eyelash, if my life had depended upon the exertion. "From the risen house I saw a myriad of black specks falling to the earth. Then I watched that home soar upward. It hurtled five blocks through the murky twilight, sustained at a height of one hundred and fifty feet. "The Sacred Heart Convent was the target at which it was hurled.
He sat down in the huge leather chair, and, drawing it up to the piano lamp and cocking his feet upon the table, began to read. In a few moments the same numbness stole into his head like a rising fog, a queer, tense feeling, growing at the back of his forehead and at the base of his skull, a dulness, a strange stupefying sensation as of some torpid, murky atmosphere.
I read even at meals, despite my father's protests that it was bad-mannered. Breasted's book store, down in Newark, was where I was nearly always to be found, in the late afternoons. It was there, in the murky light of a dying twilight, that I came Upon the book that has meant more to my life than any other book ever written....
It was with some alarm that, after the introduction had been completed, he beheld the manager take his leave. As the door closed, the bashful Prosper felt the murky eyes of the widow fixed upon him. A gentle cough, accompanied with the resigned laying of a black mittened hand upon her chest, suggested a genteel prelude to conversation, with possible pulmonary complications.
At this moment appeared four other bald-pates, hauling in a lad to the confessor, the poor fellow looking as pleased as if he were going to the gallows. "We have brought you a cub," said one of the four, "that you may award him a proper punishment for revealing the secrets of the catholic church." "What secrets?" said the confessor, looking towards a murky cell which was nigh at hand.
The quiet sea seemed, in the murky light, like a dense and motionless mass, save when the gathering clouds passed from the brow of the waning moon, and permitted its beams to repose in silver lines on its undulating bosom.
"Aw, cut out de boudoir talk, an' get down to cases!" she croaked. "Who are youse, anyway?" The young man had gray eyes and they lighted up now humorously. "Boudoir? Ah yes! Of course! Awfully neat!" His eyes, from the chair that held the candle, strayed around the scantily furnished, murky garret as though in search of a seat, and finally rested inquiringly on Rhoda Gray.
Halfway across the span he paused, and sinking into the shadow of an iron girder, began watching the surface of the water. He was, in fact, attempting to understand those murky depths. From his room he had detected a strange light. Either reflected on the water or shining up through it, this light appeared a pale yellow glow, such as he had often seen given off by the jelly fish in the Pacific.
It was that chromatic sort of a morning when the canvas of the sailing-boats stands out startlingly white against the drizzly sky and the smoke from the stacks of the steamers takes on an accented coal-black, and, drooping, trails low in a murky wake. Rather a dull setting at this early hour; but not sufficiently dull to check the vivacity of the actors in the scene.
Yet it was only high noon, of a "seasonable" winter's day, by the face of the clock that hung like a pallid moon on the murky wall opposite to him. What else could be seen of the apartment by the faint light that struggled through the pall of fog outside the lustreless windows presented the ordinary aspect of a business sanctum.
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