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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

The
imperfect light of our mutton-fat candle made all this look still more
comfortless.
Madame placed the candle on the chimneypiece, locked the door, and put the
key in her pocket.
'I always do so in '_otel_' said she, with a wink at me.
And, then with a long 'ha!' expressive of fatigue and relief, she threw
herself into a chair.
'So 'ere we are at last!' said she; 'I'm glad. _There's_ your bed, Maud.
_Mine_ is in the dressing-room.'
She took the candle, and I went in with her. A shabby press bed, a
chair, and table were all its furniture; it was rather a closet than a
dressing-room, and had no door except that through which we had entered. So
we returned, and very tired, wondering, I sat down on the side of my bed
and yawned.
'I hope they will call us in time for the packet,' I said.
'Oh yes, they never fail,' she answered, looking steadfastly on her box,
which she was diligently uncording.
Uninviting as was my bed, I was longing to lie down in it; and having made
those ablutions which our journey rendered necessary, I at length lay
down, having first religiously stuck my talismanic pin, with the head of
sealing-wax, into the bolster.


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