Rolling Stone (2016)
“They had come to a dark street where tall old houses rose like cliffs and were lost in the fog. And then down area steps, the driver going ahead and ringing a bell which could be heard giving a prolonged tinkle from somewhere inside the house. After an interval footsteps, and the door opening an inch or two upon the chain. A mutter from the driver, and he turned on his heel and was off up the steps to his taxi. The door swung wide, and Peter came in upon a dark, stuffy passage. There was a slam behind him, and the turning of a key in the lock. The man who had let him in went past him without a word, and through a half open door on the right.
Peter followed him into the lighted kitchen. He took stock of it now. A good-sized room lying to the front of the house below the street level. Two windows furnished with strong wooden shutters looked into the area. The shutters were closed. They had been painted, but the paint was scaling off. There was an old rusty range, a deal table, some wood...en chairs, and two more of basketwork very down at heel, with padded backs and seats covered in a chintz whose pattern had long been lost beneath successive layers of dirt.MoreLess
Peter followed him into the lighted kitchen. He took stock of it now. A good-sized room lying to the front of the house below the street level. Two windows furnished with strong wooden shutters looked into the area. The shutters were closed. They had been painted, but the paint was scaling off. There was an old rusty range, a deal table, some wood...en chairs, and two more of basketwork very down at heel, with padded backs and seats covered in a chintz whose pattern had long been lost beneath successive layers of dirt.MoreLess
Write Review:
Guest
Read Also
8 / 10
User Reviews: