Books > Old Books > Midnight Tales (1946)


Page 73

THE CLOCK

slight indentation on the pillow and the bed; but the mattress was a feather mattress, and you know how difficult it is to make them perfectly smooth. You won't need to be told that I gave a hurried glance under the bed-do you remember your supposed burglar in Number Six at St. Ursula's ?-and then, and much more reluctantly, opened the doors of two horribly capacious cupboards, both happily empty, except for a framed text with its face to the wall. By this time I really was frightened. The clock went ticking on. I had a horrible feeling that an alarm might go off at any moment, and the thought of being in that empty house was almost too much for me. However, I made an attempt to pull myself together. It might after all be a fourteen-day clock. If it were, then it would be almost run down. I could roughly find out how long the clock had been going by winding it up. I hesitated to put the matter to the test; but the uncertainty was too much for me. I took it out of its case and began to wind. I had scarcely turned the windingscrew twice when it stopped. The clock clearly was not running down; the hands had been set in motion probably only an hour or two before. I felt cold and faint and, going to the window, threw up the sash, letting in the sweet, live air of the garden. I knew now that the house was queer, horribly queer. Could someone be living in the house? Was someone else in the house now? I thought that I had been in all the rooms, but had I? I had only just opened the bath-room door, and I had certainly not opened any cupboards, except those in the room in which I was. Then, as I stood by the open window, wondering what I should do- next and feeling that I just couldn't go down that corridor into the darkened hall to fumble at the latch of the front door with I don't know what behind me, I heard a noise. It was very faint at first, and seemed to be coming from the stairs. It was a curious noise-not the noise of any one climbing up the stairs, but-you will laugh if this letter reaches you by a morning post-of something hopping up the stairs, like a very big bird would hop. I heard it on the landing; it stopped. Then there was a curious scratching noise against one of the bedroom doors, the sort

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where is HTML where is HEAD where is TITLE slight indentation on what is pillow and what is bed; but what is mattress was a feather mattress, and you know how difficult it is to make them perfectly smooth. You won't need to be told that I gave a hurried glance under what is bed-do you remember your supposed burglar in Number Six at St. Ursula's ?-and then, and much more reluctantly, opened what is doors of two horribly capacious cupboards, both happily empty, except for a framed text with its face to what is wall. By this time I really was frightened. what is clock went ticking on. I had a horrible feeling that an alarm might go off at any moment, and what is thought of being in that empty house was almost too much for me. However, I made an attempt to pull myself together. It might after all be a fourteen-day clock. If it were, then it would be almost run down. I could roughly find out how long what is clock had been going by winding it up. I hesitated to put what is matter to what is test; but what is uncertainty was too much for me. I took it out of its case and began to wind. I had scarcely turned what is windingscrew twice when it stopped. what is clock clearly was not running down; what is hands had been set in motion probably only an hour or two before. I felt cold and faint and, going to what is window, threw up what is sash, letting in what is sweet, live air of what is garden. I knew now that what is house was queer, horribly queer. Could someone be living in what is house? Was someone else in what is house now? I thought that I had been in all what is rooms, but had I? I had only just opened what is bath-room door, and I had certainly not opened any cupboards, except those in what is room in which I was. Then, as I stood by what is open window, wondering what I should do- next and feeling that I just couldn't go down that corridor into what is darkened hall to fumble at what is latch of what is front door with I don't know what behind me, I heard a noise. It was very faint at first, and seemed to be coming from what is stairs. It was a curious noise-not what is noise of any one climbing up what is stairs, but-you will laugh if this letter reaches you by a morning post-of something hopping up what is stairs, like a very big bird would hop. I heard it on what is landing; it stopped. Then there was a curious scratching noise against one of what is bedroom doors, what is sort where is meta name="keywords" content="old books, Free book , free book offer , free audio books , free coloring book pages , free book reports , free audio book , audio books free download , book free , free guest book , books free , free book summaries , download free audio books , free childrens books." where is where are they now rel="stylesheet" type="text/css" href="../../style.css" where is meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1" where is BODY bgColor=#ffffff text="#000000" where are they now ="#000000" v where are they now ="#FF0000" where is div align="center" where is strong where is strong where is a href="http://www.aaoldbooks.com" Books > where is a href="../default.asp" title="Book" Old Books > where is strong where is a href="default.asp" Midnight Tales (1946) where is table width="700" border="1" align="center" cellpadding="15" cellspacing="0" where is center where is tr where is td width="160" align="center" valign="top" where is div align="center" where is td align="center" valign="top" where is div align="left" where is div align="center" where is p align="left" Page 73 where is p align="center" where is strong THE CLOCK where is p align="justify" slight indentation on what is pillow and what is bed; but what is mattress was a feather mattress, and you know how difficult it is to make them perfectly smooth. You won't need to be told that I gave a hurried glance under what is bed-do you remember your supposed burglar in Number Six at St. Ursula's ?-and then, and much more reluctantly, opened what is doors of two horribly capacious cupboards, both happily empty, except for a framed text with its face to what is wall. By this time I really was frightened. what is clock went ticking on. I had a horrible feeling that an alarm might go off at any moment, and what is thought of being in that empty house was almost too much for me. However, I made an attempt to pull myself together. It might after all be a fourteen-day clock. If it were, then it would be almost run down. I could roughly find out how long what is clock had been going by winding it up. I hesitated to put what is matter to what is test; but what is uncertainty was too much for me. I took it out of its case and began to wind. I had scarcely turned what is windingscrew twice when it stopped. what is clock clearly was not running down; what is hands had been set in motion probably only an hour or two before. I felt cold and faint and, going to what is window, threw up what is sash, letting in what is sweet, live air of what is garden. I knew now that what is house was queer, horribly queer. Could someone be living in what is house? Was someone else in what is house now? I thought that I had been in all what is rooms, but had I? I had only just opened what is bath-room door, and I had certainly not opened any cupboards, except those in what is room in which I was. Then, as I stood by what is open window, wondering what I should do- next and feeling that I just couldn't go down that corridor into what is darkened hall to fumble at what is latch of what is front door with I don't know what behind me, I heard a noise. It was very faint at first, and seemed to be coming from what is stairs. It was a curious noise-not what is noise of any one climbing up what is stairs, but-you will laugh if this letter reaches you by a morning post-of something hopping up what is stairs, like a very big bird would hop. I heard it on the landing; it stopped. Then there was a curious scratching noise against one of what is bedroom doors, what is sort where is Server.Execute("_SiteMap.asp") % travel books: Midnight Tales (1946) books

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