Hardly
touching the ground and yet leaden-footed; with a sinking heart and
an excited brain; hot and trembling with a secret faintness, and
yet as firm as a rock and with a sort of indifference to it all, I
did reach the door which was frightfully like any other commonplace
door, but at the same time had a fateful character: a few planks
put together--and an awful symbol; not to be approached without
awe--and yet coming open in the ordinary way to the ring of the
bell.
It came open. Oh, yes, very much as usual. But in the ordinary
course of events the first sight in the hall should have been the
back of the ubiquitous, busy, silent maid hurrying off and already
distant. But not at all! She actually waited for me to enter. I
was extremely taken aback and I believe spoke to her for the first
time in my life.
"Bonjour, Rose."
She dropped her dark eyelids over those eyes that ought to have
been lustrous but were not, as if somebody had breathed on them the
first thing in the morning. She was a girl without smiles. She
shut the door after me, and not only did that but in the incredible
idleness of that morning she, who had never a moment to spare,
started helping me off with my overcoat.
Pages:
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200