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De la Mare, Walter, 1873-1956

"Henry Brocken His Travels and Adventures in the Rich, Strange, Scarce-Imaginable Regions of Romance"

His lip sagged into his beard, he
babbled with open mouth, and leaned on his lady with such an impotent
and slavish regard as I hope never to see again man pay to woman....
We thought no more of supper after that....
"But what do I--?" The doctor laid a cautioning finger on his mouth.
"The company was dispersed, the palace gloomy with night (and they
were black nights at Forres!), and on the walls I heard the sentinel's
replying.... In the wood's last glow I entered and stood in his
self-same station before the empty stool. And even as I stood thus, my
hair creeping, my will concentred, gazing with every cord at stretch,
fell a light, light footfall behind me." He glanced whitely over his
shoulder.
"Sir, it was the queen come softly out of slumber on my own unquiet
errand."
The doctor strode to the door, and peered out like a man suspicious or
guilty of treachery. It was indeed a house of broken silences. And
there, in the doorway, he seemed to be addressing his own saddened
conscience.
"With all my skill, and all a leal man's gentleness, I solaced and
persuaded, and made an oath, and conducted her back to her own chamber
unperceived.


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