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Updated: May 25, 2025
Eccles jumped down from the box and scurried to open the front door. The radiance of a hall-lamp was streaming out into the misty night when he returned to release his employers. They were returned to Craven Street! "One more lap round the track!" mused Kirkwood. "Wonder will the next take me back to Bermondsey Old Stairs." At Mrs.
My blood still tingles with a horrible memory illustrative of this truth. Dressing hurriedly and in darkness for a concert one evening, I appealed to the Dominie, as we passed under the hall-lamp, for a toilet-inspection. "How do I look, father?" After a sweeping glance came the candid statement, "Beau-tifully!"
Christmas Eve happened to be a cold, clear, star-lit night; and when Marstern drove to Miss Waldo's door, he asked himself, "Could a fellow ask for anything daintier and finer" than the red-lipped, dark-eyed girl revealed by the hall-lamp as she tripped lightly out, her anxious mamma following her with words of unheeded caution about not taking cold, and coming home early.
"I am glad," he said, "that my last day with you has been crowned by such adventures. I leave the Lake at noon." She hung, listening, with a backward swerve of figure, and regarding him in the dim light of the swinging hall-lamp, for the moment half-petrified. Suddenly she turned and seized his hand in hers, then threw it off.
The rays of the hall-lamp fell on the face, and Maude, in her anguish, with a succession of hysterical sobs, came shivering back to sink down at her mother's feet. "Oh, my love my love! Dead! dead!" The only one who heard the words was Anne Ashton. The countess-dowager caught the last. "Who is dead?
Whether crouched on the cold stones or wandering in the fields among the snow, was more than he could tell; but hours had passed. The finger of the hall clock was close on twelve; a narrow peep of gas in the hall-lamp shed shadows; and the door of the back room his father's room was open and emitted a warm light.
The hall-door closed softly; suddenly the line of light below the door vanished. Some one had turned down the hall-lamp. She went to the drawing-room door, opened it, looked out, crying softly: "Falk! Falk!" "Yes, mother." He came across to her. He was holding a lighted candle in his hand. "Are you still up?" "Yes, it isn't very late. Barely eleven. Come into the drawing-room."
He had left his lights full on for the benefit of watchers, and the hall-lamp glowed convincingly through the fanlight. Beale's flat was in darkness, and a slip of paper fastened to the door gave his address. The doctor let himself into his own rooms, closed the door, switched out the light and stepped into his bureau. "Hello," he said angrily, "what are you doing here? I told you not to come."
Once outside in the old-fashioned hall, she stopped for a moment, her eyes fixed on the floor, the light from the hall-lamp shining on her silver hair and the shawl about her shoulders, and said slowly to herself, as if counting each word: "What can I do to save this boy from himself?"
On my mentioning Captain Stuart's name to Signora Lucretia, she exclaimed, "Let us go, my children, and thank this good man for his kind present to our Virginia." It was dark, but the hall-lamp had not been lit, so I took a wax taper from the writing-table and, lighting it, proceeded to escort them up the staircase.
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