She was something sure and pleasant in a world that swayed and was
uncertain. He was drunk enough to feel happy so long as he was not
scolded. He dreaded the moment when his brother Charles would
appear, and he strove to arrange in his mind the wise and
unanswerable word with which he would defend himself, but his
thoughts slipped just as the firelight slipped and the floors with
the old threadbare carpet.
Then suddenly the hall door opened with a jangle, there were steps
in the hall, and Old Timmie Carthewe the sexton appeared in the
dining-room. He had a goat's face and a body like a hairpin.
"Rector's not been to service," he said. "There's Miss Dunnett and
Mrs. Giles and the two Miss Backshaws. I'm feared he's forgotten."
Maggie started up. Instantly to her mind came the memory of that
fancied sound from her father's room. She listened now, her head
raised, and the two men, their eyes bleared but their noses sniffing
as though they were dogs, listened also. There were certain sounds,
clocks ticking, the bough scraping on the wall, a cart's echo on the
frozen road, the maid singing far in the depths of the house.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32