W. W. Jacobs

W. W. Jacobs

Summary

Portrait of W. W. Jacobs W. W. Jacobs The Vigil

Farrer peered through the plants which formed a welcome screen to the window and listened with some uneasiness. He was waiting for the firm, springy step that should herald the approach of ex-Sergeant-Major Ward. A squeeze of Miss Ward's hand renewed his courage.
"Perhaps I had better light the lamp," said the girl, after a long pause. "I wonder where mother's got to?"
"She's on my side, at any rate," said Mr. Farrer.
"Poor mother!" said the girl. "She daren't call her soul her own. I expect she's sitting in her bedroom with the door shut. She hates unpleasantness.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of W. W. Jacobs W. W. Jacobs The Vigil

Edward Farrer.
Not a soul in the streets; not a light in a window. He left the little town behind, passed the last isolated house on the road, and walked into the greater blackness of a road between tall hedges. He had put on canvas shoes with rubber soles, for the better surprise of Mr. Farrer, and his own progress seemed to partake of a ghostly nature. Every ghost story he had ever heard or read crowded into his memory.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of W. W. Jacobs W. W. Jacobs The Vigil

I'll show you whether I'm afraid or not."
"There's no reason for you to be afraid," said Mr. Farrer. "I shall be there to protect you. That's very different to being there alone, as I shall be. But, of course, you can go up the next night by yourself, and wait for me, if you like. If you like to prove your courage, I mean."
"When I want to be ordered about," said the sergeant-major, in a magnificent voice, "I'll let you know.
Source: Gutenberg

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