These were
bedrooms, and it was worse than downstairs. I could see the great
four-posters glimmering in the darkness. The smell of mildew was
everywhere.
Suddenly my courage gave out. I had an idea. Supposing that Bridget
Kelly was lying dead in one of these rooms or the great stone kitchens
below!
I turned about hastily, dreading what lay behind me. I would come
another time with my godmother. How could one tell who was skulking in
the house? The door had been open when I came to it.
And then--I heard the hall door shut with a great bang. There was no
wind to shut it. It was the last straw. I fled precipitately through the
baize door and on to the staircase, which was lit by a skylight
overhead. Even though I met the person who had shut the door I must make
towards the sunlight and the world outside.
CHAPTER XVI
THE PORTRAIT
As I came out on to the great landing which had a recess supported by
pillars, I saw that a baize door on the other side, corresponding to the
one by which I had come was slowly opening. To my excited fancy it
opened stealthily, and I stood staring at it, not knowing what might
issue from it.
Imagine, then, my joy and surprise when I saw for the second time
Anthony Cardew's face.
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