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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"


I think my nervous vitality must have burnt very low just then, for I felt
perfectly indifferent about all the novelty and world of wonders beyond,
and should have hated to leave the dull tranquillity of my window for an
excursion through the splendours of the unseen streets and palaces that
surrounded me.
It was one o'clock before Madame joined me; and finding me in this dull
mood, she did not press me to accompany her in her drive, no doubt well
pleased to be rid of me.
After tea that evening, as we sat alone in our room, she entertained me
with some very odd conversation--at the time unintelligible--but which
acquired a tolerably distinct meaning from the events that followed.
Two or three times that day Madame appeared to me on the point of saying
something of grave import, as she scanned me with her bleak wicked stare.
It was a peculiarity of hers, that whenever she was pressed upon by an
anxiety that really troubled her, her countenance did not look sad or
solicitous, as other people's would, but simply wicked. Her great gaunt
mouth was compressed and drawn down firmly at the corners, and her eyes
glared with a dismal scowl.


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