Books › Blue Book v032 n04 [ 1921 02], 1921 › scan 6
Scan 6
Blue Book v032 n04 [ 1921 02], 1921
13 lines. Read by computer on 17 September 2026. No printed page number was found. See the scan on archive.org.
1Wind Along the Waste
2A Three-part Novel
3by Gladys E. Johnson
5CHAPTER I
6At Dune House
7YOU can see for yourself that there's nothing to get scared of. Lonely? Course it's lonely; so's every country house, and I suppose some would find sand dunes more so than the straight country; but if you have a brain in your head,—and I think you have; that's why I engaged you,—you aren't going to work up a fit of hysterics and think every shadow's a ghost and it's going to bite you!"
8Eliza Haldayne finished this tirade with a rather belligerent stare, and I quickly murmured something about "hoping not."
9Her quick black eyes galloped about the room. "I think everything you'll need's here. The children's room is next to yours. You'll see 'em in the morning. Hoang brought your baggage up, I see!"—with a quick glance at my suitcases placed at the foot of the bed. "Don't open your windows; night air's bad. Breakfast's at eight."
10Firing these directions jerkily, as one who is unaccustomed to or impatient of wasting much conversation, she moved toward the door, the light from the hanging kerosene lamp wickedly painting her bobbing caricature on the walls as she did so.
11At the doorway she paused a moment and looked back at my motionless figure bathed in the lamplight. It might have been a trick of the shadows, or perhaps only my fancy, but for a brief instant she seemed about to speak, indecision battling with some other emotion which I could not analyze. Whatever the impulse, it was quickly over. Her middle-aged features slipped back into their usual stern mask, and with a curt "good night," she left me.
12For a moment I stood hesitating in the center of the big high-ceiled room, chilled more than reassured by the advice I had just received. The lamp cast a cone of yellow light, an enormous splash of color in the very center of the room. Beyond its radius the shadows gathered ominously, seeming only to await some signal to rush silently upon me. Before the fancy my usual self-possession fled, leaving me feeling very frail and defenseless.
The computer misreads some letters and numbers. Where a name matters to you, read the scan.