XXIII HUNCHBACK JOE

XXIV AT FIVE MINUTES OF TWELVE




THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF JIMMIE DALE




CHAPTER I


SMARLINGHUE

A diminutive gas-jet's sickly, yellow flame illuminated the room with
poverty-stricken inadequacy; high up on the wall, bordering the ceiling,
the moonlight, as though contemptuous of its artificial competitor,
streamed in through a small, square window, and laid a white, flickering
path to the door across a filthy and disreputable rag of carpet; also,
through a rent in the roller shade, which was drawn over a sort of
antiquated French window that opened on a level with the floor and in
line with the top-light, the moonlight disclosed a narrow and squalid
courtyard without.

In one corner of the room stood a battered easel, while against the wall
near it, and upon the floor, were a number of canvases of different
sizes. A cot bed, unmade, its covers dirty and in disorder, occupied the