“Why not? Isn’t the whole thing a lie? Isn’t her reputation, this husband of hers,
the ‘Alcide’ business, isn’t it all a cursed juggle? She hasn’t the right to do it. A thin line of red appeared in the white neck. It is absolutely a frightful neighbourhood, this. You’ll end there one day, mark my words. Divers plans and figures were chalked
upon the walls; and the spaces between them were filled up with an almanack for
the year; a godly ballad, adorned with a rude wood-cut, purporting to be "The
History of Chaste Susannah;" an old print of the Seven Golden Candlesticks; an
abstract of the various Acts of Parliament against drinking, swearing, and all
manner of profaneness; and a view of the interior of Doctor Daniel Burgess's
Presbyterian meeting-house in Russell Court, with portraits of the reverend
gentleman and the principal members of his flock. In a fit of despondency, superinduced
by drunkenness, he made away with himself; and when the body was discovered,
after a lapse of some months, such was the impression produced by the spectacle
—such the alarm occasioned by the crazy state of the building, and, above all, by
the terror inspired by strange and unearthly noises heard during the night, which
were, of course, attributed to the spirit of the suicide, that the place speedily
enjoyed the reputation of being haunted, and was, consequently, entirely
abandoned. After all,
this could never be the black sheep. . She was a swan
among geese, trying to look plain and dowdy. The Wastrel,
his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room.
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This video was uploaded to m.damaulifm.org on 07-07-2024 00:09:36