At last Sylvia got up from the hard cane chair on which she had been
sitting.
There had come over her, in the half-darkness, a very peculiar
sensation--an odd feeling that there was something alive in the room. She
looked down, half expecting to see some small animal crouching under the
table, or hiding by the walnut-wood buffet behind her.
But, no; nothing but the round table, and the six chairs stiffly placed
against the wall, met her eyes. And yet, still that feeling that there
was in the room some sentient creature besides herself persisted.
She opened the door giving into the hall, and walked through the short
passage which divided the house into two portions, into the tiny "salon."
Here also the closed shutters gave the room a curious, eerie look
of desolate greyness. But Sylvia's eyes, already accustomed to the
half-darkness next door, saw everything perfectly.
The little sitting-room looked mean and shabby. There was not a flower,
not even a book or a paper, to relieve its prim ugliness. The only
ornaments were a gilt clock on the mantelpiece, flanked with two sham
Empire candelabra.
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