Thrice Lost, Thrice Won — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

-eueioms L g rs aay hig room, piueloa% in back walnut, the dim day- light stealing in through the high, narrow windows, gloomy ; fand dark, and almost unfurnished. A few stiff- backed wooden ‘Bchairs, primly arranged, round the walls, a deal table, cov- ered with oil-cloth, in the middle of the floor, a stony- -hearted Gold horse-hair sofa—nothing more. In a huge gulf of a fire- eae wide enough to hold yule logs at Christmas-time, a # to lighten or heat the sombre room. E; It was an afternoon early in May, but a chill wind blew @ rawly over the sea, and drifted the rain ceaselessly against thie narrow windows. A hopelessly wet and windy after- }| noon, with a low-lying black: sky, frowning down on a moan- ii ing black sea, and with trees tossing drearily in the wailing, desolate blast. Desolate without, desolate within, the one occupant of that eerie chamber paced up and down, up and bh is face. — rie) ay locks straggling from under a rusty old skull- -cap, and a *i', a a, hands, clasped behind his back, were hooked like the ons of a bird of prey. | He stopped short in his restless walk suddenly, at the sound a ou oie clock, somewhere outside, striking sonorously ‘Four o’clock,” anittered the old man, angrily, “and he told Sim mpson. he. would be here directly. Some people would re of green wood sputtered and smoked viciously, and failed down, with all the gloom of the weather shadowed darkly i in _ An old man, becit and withered, and yiiidnd with seanty ce seamed and drawn into innumerable furrows. From un- — pousky gray brows two keen eyes twinkled, and the long, — law dle, * believe, though the crown of the world awaited EP ea og H ‘He ¥ led to one of the windows and looked out. There | . oat 1 . cy 7 “ ae oe nd yet Roysten Darrell is not one of that hast ate <j -€O nitric be - ce a oa , ae. i comicboo