The nurse, again, was
scarcely a desirable house-fellow. Since her arrival, the fall of
whisky in the young man's private bottle was much accelerated; and
though never communicative, she was at times unpleasantly familiar.
When asked about the patient's health, she would dolorously shake
her head, and declare that the poor gentleman was in a pitiful
condition.
Yet somehow Somerset had early begun to entertain the notion that
his complaint was other than bodily. The ill-looking birds that
gathered to the house, the strange noises that sounded from the
drawing-room in the dead hours of night, the careless attendance
and intemperate habits of the nurse, the entire absence of
correspondence, the entire seclusion of Mr. Jones himself, whose
face, up to that hour, he could not have sworn to in a court of
justice--all weighed unpleasantly upon the young man's mind. A
sense of something evil, irregular and underhand, haunted and
depressed him; and this uneasy sentiment was the more firmly rooted
in his mind, when, in the fulness of time, he had an opportunity of
observing the features of his tenant.
Pages:
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201