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Updated: May 29, 2025
'What is that little light that spark? she asked. 'Is it a star? 'Oh, no, the Dictator said gravely, 'it is only an ordinary gas-lamp nothing more. 'A gas-lamp? Oh, come, that is quite impossible. I mean that star, there in the sky. 'It is only a gas-lamp all the same, he said. 'You will see in a moment. It is on the brow of the road probably the first gas-lamp on the way into the town.
Down below in the quiet, narrow street measured footsteps approached the house, then died away unhurried and firm, as if the passer-by had started to pace out all eternity, from gas-lamp to gas-lamp in a night without end; and the drowsy ticking of the old clock on the landing became distinctly audible in the bedroom. Mrs Verloc, on her back, and staring at the ceiling, made a remark.
A brougham and pair of greys under the glare of a gas-lamp stood before the doctor's door. "It's been out three hours," said Holmes; "started at half-past six, and here it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelve miles, and he does it once, or sometimes twice, a day." "No unusual thing for a doctor in practice." "But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice.
He held her in both arms, thinking that she had swooned, but she murmured: "Have you heard that my voice has gone?" "If you have suffered, I do not wonder," he said. "I am useless. My voice is dead." "Useless to your friends? Tush, my little Emilia! Sandra mia! Don't you know that while you love your friends that's all they want of you?" "Oh!" she moaned; "the gas-lamp hurts me.
He suddenly paused in his excited narrative. Valentine had moved his position slightly and was now standing almost immediately under the gas-lamp that lit the glass door. "You you are relation of him?" he said. "You come to see him?" "I have come to see him, certainly," said Valentine. "But I am no relation of his.
And Leonard paused in making the catalogue, and took many a hasty snatch of the contents of each tome, as it passed through his hands. Nothing could be more dark and dingy than the shop. There was a booth outside, containing cheap books and odd volumes, round which there was always an attentive group; within, a gas-lamp burned night and day. But time passed quickly to Leonard.
Leonard glanced towards the speaker, who now stood under the gas-lamp, and thought he recognized his face. He looked again. Yes; it was the perch-fisher whom he had met on the banks of the Brent, and who had warned him of the lost fish and the broken line. "But the 'Art of Thinking'! you charge eight shillings for the 'Art of Thinking." MR. PRICKETT. "Cheap enough, Mr. Burley. A very clean copy."
The next evening, just before dusk, Graham Vane was seated musingly in his own apartment in the Faubourg Montmartre, when there came a slight knock at his door. He was so wrapped in thought that he did not hear the sound, though twice repeated. The door opened gently, and M. Lebeau appeared on the threshold. The room was lighted only by the gas-lamp from the street without.
He recommended simply "Groseillette," which Marowsko thought admirable. Then they were silent, and sat for some minutes without a word under the solitary gas-lamp. At last Pierre began, almost in spite of himself: "A queer thing has happened at home this evening. A friend of my father's, who is lately dead, has left his fortune to my brother."
They elbowed the wall back, rubbed their heads with their hats, shuffled round, and seemed to take a vacant sort of interest in abstract objects, such as the pavement, the gas-lamp, and neighbouring doors and windows. "Got the things ready?" asked Bill. "Oh, yes." "Got 'em downstairs?" "There's no upstairs. The rooms above belong to the next house."
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