Barry Pain,
The Memoirs Of Constantine Dix…
(1905)
“ On a small, and I should say cheap, iron bedstead in the middle of the room lay the dead body of Sir Charles. I will not describe him; a fat man does not look pretty when he is dead. The half-closed eyes seemed to be looking straight at me. The windows were heavily curtained, and on the bed itself and on the floor were masses of white flowers; the electric light was full on, and, in addition, a row of tall candles blazed at the head of the bed. I drew the chamois leather bag from my pocket and emptied out the diamonds into the palm of my hand. ”
