When she gets tired of waiting, you know what to tell her.
If she asks when I am expected to return, say that I dine at my club,
and spend the evening at the theatre. Now then, softly, Thomas!
If your shoes creak, I am a lost man.'
He noiselessly led the way into the hall, followed by the servant
on tip-toe.
Did the lady in the consulting-room suspect him? or did Thomas's
shoes creak, and was her sense of hearing unusually keen?
Whatever the explanation may be, the event that actually happened
was beyond all doubt. Exactly as Doctor Wybrow passed his
consulting-room, the door opened--the lady appeared on the threshold--
and laid her hand on his arm.
'I entreat you, sir, not to go away without letting me speak
to you first.'
The accent was foreign; the tone was low and firm. Her fingers
closed gently, and yet resolutely, on the Doctor's arm.
Neither her language nor her action had the slightest effect in inclining
him to grant her request. The influence that instantly stopped him,
on the way to his carriage, was the silent influence of her face.
The startling contrast between the corpse-like pallor of her
complexion and the overpowering life and light, the glittering
metallic brightness in her large black eyes, held him literally
spell-bound.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25