“CHAPTER XXXVIII Some time later Vincent Bell came into the inner hall. Mr. Montague Phipson was setting his watch by the grandfather clock. He turned about and came to meet him. “This is a very strange affair,” he said with a mixture of nervousness and formality in his manner. An onlooker might have thought that, much as Mr. Phipson disliked his present company, he yet considered it in the circumstances to be better than no company at all. “Perhaps if I might have a word with you——” He opened t...he drawing-room door as he spoke and put on all the lights. The candles in their gilt sconces lit up the old-ivory panelling, the polished floor, the dim lovely colours of the Persian rugs, the graceful Adam mantelpiece, and the long, straight folds of blue which curtained the four tall windows. Mr. Phipson shut the door and came into the middle of the room. He thought it had a dead feeling. It was warm because of the central heating installed by Lucas Dale, but no fire had been lighted here for the past two days, and the air felt dead.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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