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Le Fanu, Joseph Sheridan, 1814-1873

"Uncle Silas A Tale of Bartram-Haugh"

My
whole soul was concentrated in my uncle, the arbiter of my life, before
whom I stood in the wildest agony of supplication.
That night was dreadful. The people I saw dizzily, made of smoke or shining
vapour, smiling or frowning, I could have passed my hand through them. They
were evil spirits.
'There's no ill intended you; by ---- there's none,' said my uncle, for
the first time violently agitated. 'Madame told you why we've changed your
room. You told her about the bailiffs, did not you? 'with a stamp of fury
he demanded of Madame, whose nasal roullades of talk were running on like a
accompaniment all the time. She had told me indeed only a few hours since,
and now it sounded to me like the echo of something heard a month ago or
more.
'You can't go about the house, d--n it, with bailiffs in occupation. There
now--there's the whole thing. Get to your room, Maud, and don't vex me.
There's a good girl.'
He was trying to smile as he spoke these last words, and, with quavering
soft tones, to quiet me; but the old scowl was there, the smile was
corpse-like and contorted, and the softness of his tones was more dreadful
than another man's ferocity.


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