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The house was cut up into a labyrinth of small rooms, just large enough for a horse to turn around in, and the doors were low and narrow. As I could not find the outer door, I led my horse successively into every room in the house. There is no furniture such as we use in a typical Spanish dwelling, no bedsteads, tables, or chairs.
At times I cannot work I mean, I could not for a sense of the vastness of the field before me. I should like you to see my rooms at Balliol. Shelves have long since refused to take another volume; floor, tables, chairs, every spot is heaped. And there they lie; hosts I have scarcely looked into, many I shall never have time to take up to the end of my days.
At her side a door opened into a dim room. "No, no," he protested, "let me in here?" He entered the room. It was, he divined, hers. His foot struck against a chair, and his hand caught the back. A thin, clinging under-garment rested on it, which he deposited on a vague bed. It stuck to his fingers like a cobweb. There was just room on the balcony to arrange the chairs side by side.
"I do more yet by you," he added charitably, "then make over for you chairs and tables and such, already: I make over for you your little mind." The old socialist did indeed show us what cabinet-making can be.
Then he went out, closing the door behind him; and Bates sank upon the bed and put his hands to his forehead and gasped, "Oh, my God." The young man who accompanied him had set down his suit-case, and he now sat down on one of the chairs, and proceeded to lean back and laugh hilariously. Montague stood staring from one to the other. "My God, my God!" said Bates, again.
Her name sufficed; at once she was respectfully conducted to a small electric-lighted room, furnished only with a table and chairs, and hung about with portraits of theatrical people, where Dymes sat by the fire smoking a cigarette. The illustrious man apologised for receiving her here, instead of in the manager's room, which he had hoped to make use of.
The women followed without a word. Elizabeth went in a dream, half-enchantment, half-nightmare. The chapel was dark and musty no time to light the lamps; but Mr Armitage, the facile, the adroit, a perfect Mercury and old in experience, called in four linkmen waiting by their ladies' empty chairs in the street outside.
The room was without light, save from the stars and the candles the girls carried, which revealed to them dimly two long and several small tables, a few benches and chairs, a couple of skeletons hanging on the wall, a sink, and cloth-covered heaps of something upon the tables here and there.
Once she crept into the dining-room and found it empty, though a partly finished meal was on the table and chairs and plates looked as if they had been hastily pushed back when the diners rose suddenly for some reason. The child ate some fruit and biscuits, and being thirsty she drank a glass of wine which stood nearly filled. It was sweet, and she did not know how strong it was.
Startled by the report, which they had half inclined to imagine produced by the discharge of one of their own guns, the half slumbering officers had quitted the chairs in which they had passed the night in the mess-room, and were soon at the side of their more watchful companions, then anxiously listening for a repetition of the sound.
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