Round the Red Lamp by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
page 49 of 330 (14%)
page 49 of 330 (14%)
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circles upon the glistening cobblestones. The air
was full of the sounds of the rain, the thin swish of its fall, the heavier drip from the eaves, and the swirl and gurgle down the two steep gutters and through the sewer grating. There was only one figure in the whole length of Scudamore Lane. It was that of a man, and it stood outside the door of Dr. Horace Selby. He had just rung and was waiting for an answer. The fanlight beat full upon the gleaming shoulders of his waterproof and upon his upturned features. It was a wan, sensitive, clear-cut face, with some subtle, nameless peculiarity in its expression, something of the startled horse in the white-rimmed eye, something too of the helpless child in the drawn cheek and the weakening of the lower lip. The man- servant knew the stranger as a patient at a bare glance at those frightened eyes. Such a look had been seen at that door many times before. "Is the doctor in?" The man hesitated. "He has had a few friends to dinner, sir. He does not like to be disturbed outside his usual hours, sir." "Tell him that I MUST see him. Tell him that |
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