Henry Seton Merriman

Summary

Henry Seton Merriman Suspense, Volume II (of 3)

Wylie returned home, and now it was almost dark. The two ladies sat in the warm firelight, with their feet upon the fender. Tea laid aside, they continued sitting there while the flames leapt and fell again, glowing on their thoughtful faces, gleaming on the simple jewellery at their throats. From the restless streets came a dull, continuous roar as of the sea. I hear it now as I write, and would fain lay aside the pen and wonder over it; for it rises and falls, swells and dies again, with a long, slow, mournful rhythm full of life, and yet joyless; soporific, and yet alive with movement.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry Seton Merriman Suspense, Volume II (of 3)

Theodore Trist stood still before the upright burnished barrels which the poet has likened to organ-pipes, and to his mind there came the memory of their music, and the roar of traffic round him was almost merged into the grand, deep voice of cannon. It is in the midst of death that men realize fully the glorious gift of life, and those who have known the delirious joy of battle—have once tasted, as it were, the cup of life's greatest emotion—are aware that nothing but a battle-field can bring that maddening taste to their lips again.
Source: Gutenberg

Henry Seton Merriman Suspense, Volume II (of 3)

Doubtless a sudden fit of communicativeness came over Alice just as they come to the rest of us—at odd moments, without any particular raison d'être.
The miserable shuffling waiter had removed all traces of their simple evening meal, and Brenda was looking between the curtains across the sea, which shimmered beneath the rays of a great yellow moon. Alice had taken up her novel, but its pages had no interest for her just then. She had appropriated the only easy-chair in the room, and was leaning back against its worn leather stuffing with a discontented look upon her lovely face.
Source: Gutenberg

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