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Updated: June 18, 2025
The new buffet had not been in the dining-room six months before it looked as ancient as the Louis XIV. pier-glass in the upper hall. This subtle influence of Mr. Maddledock had wrought a curious effect upon the whole house. It oxydized the frescoes on the walls. It subdued the varied shades of color that streamed in from the stained-glass windows.
Maddledock, adjusting his eyeglasses and examining them slowly one by one. "Yes. They appear to be all here. Ten dollars, did he say? Well, here it is. Good-night." "Good-night, sir." "And the man? Wait a bit. What became of him?" "Oh, he's dead, sir. The horse done him up. He's dead and in the Morgue by this time. Good-night." The orderly went out, and Mr.
Maddledock stood quietly with the bundle of papers in his hands until he heard the click of the vestibule door. Then he struck a match and fired them one by one, watching each until it was entirely consumed. "In the Morgue," he said, as the last pale flame flickered and died away. "Well, that's the best place for him.
Again, and for the fifth time in two minutes, Wobbles made a careful calculation upon his fingers, but to save his unhappy soul he could not bring five persons to tally with six chairs. And in the mean while, Mr. Maddledock's step in the library grew sharper in its sound and quicker in its motion. There was nothing vulgar about Mr. Maddledock.
"I don't know how much, but certainly enough to make his recovery a matter of doubt." Mr. Maddledock slightly frowned. "A matter of doubt?" he repeated, pausing with singular emphasis on each word.
The only thing that broke the dark-angel shape of his face was his nose, and that, with slight alterations, would have made an excellent shepherd's crook." Mr. Maddledock took up his wine-glass and drained it at a single quaff. "A shepherd's crook," he repeated; "an odd nose, truly." "He was an odd-looking fellow all over," Torbert continued, "odd and bad.
Maddledock's sister, and Miss Annie Throcton had arrived and were just coming downstairs from the dressing-room. Mr. Linden was in the parlor with Miss Maddledock, both looking as if all they asked was to be let alone. Mr. Maddledock was in the library walking up and down in a way that Wobbles could but look upon as ominous.
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