BookRix

There Was Silence In The Room Where James Ruan Lay In The Great Bed,
Awaiting His Marriage And His Death--A Silence So Hushed That It Was Not
Broken, Only Faintly Stirred, By The Knocking Of A Fitful Wind At The
Casement, And The Occasional Collapse Of The Glowing Embers On The
Hearth. The Firelight Flickered Over The Whitewashed Walls, Which Were
Dimmed To A Pearly Greyness By The Stronger Light Without; The Sick
Man's Face Was Deep In Shadow Under The Bed Canopy, But One Full-Veined
Hand Showed Dark Upon The Blue And White Check Of The Counterpane. All
Life, Both Without And Within, Was Dying Life--Waning Day At The
Casement, Failing Fire On The Hearth, And In The Shadowy Bed A Man's
Soul Waiting To Take Wing.