"You have finished?" says he.

"Ay, I have finished. And now you may order me from this ground you have
robbed me of. But there are some things in that house you shall not
steal, for they are mine despite you."

"Name them, Richard," he said, very sorrowful.

"The articles in my mother's room, which were hers."

"You shall have them this day," he answered.

It was his way never to lose his temper, tho' he were called by the
vilest name in the language. He must always assume this pious grief
which made me long to throttle him. He had the best of me, even now,
as he took the great key from his pocket.

"Will you look at them before you go?" he asked.

At first I was for refusing. Then I nodded. He led the way silently
around by the front; and after he had turned the lock he stepped aside
with a bow to let me pass in ahead of him. Once more I was in the
familiar hall with the stairs dividing at the back. It was cool after
the heat, and musty, and a touch of death hung in the prisoned air. We
paused for a moment on the landing, beside the high, triple-arched window
which the branches tapped on windy winter days, while Grafton took down
the bunch of keys from beside the clock. I thought of my dear
grandfather winding it every Sunday, and his ruddy face and large figure
as he stood glancing sidewise down at me. Then the sound of Grafton's