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Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

At last she rose from her chair with
impatience.
'I think it time you were saying good-night, Mr Ducie!' she said.
I could not in the least see why, and said so.
Whereupon she gave me this appalling answer, 'My aunt is coming out
of the card-room.'
In less time than it takes to tell, I had made my bow and my
escape. Looking back from the doorway, I was privileged to see,
for a moment, the august profile and gold eyeglasses of Miss
Gilchrist issuing from the card-room; and the sight lent me wings.
I stood not on the order of my going; and a moment after, I was on
the pavement of Castle Street, and the lighted windows shone down
on me, and were crossed by ironical shadows of those who had
remained behind.

CHAPTER XXIX--EVENTS OF TUESDAY: THE TOILS CLOSING

This day began with a surprise. I found a letter on my breakfast-
table addressed to Edward Ducie, Esquire; and at first I was
startled beyond measure. 'Conscience doth make cowards of us all!'
When I had opened it, it proved to be only a note from the lawyer,
enclosing a card for the Assembly Ball on Thursday evening.
Shortly after, as I was composing my mind with a segar at one of
the windows of the sitting-room, and Rowley, having finished the
light share of work that fell to him, sat not far off tootling with
great spirit and a marked preference for the upper octave, Ronald
was suddenly shown in.


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