DOI article:
Mew, Charlotte Mary: Passed
DOI Page / Citation link:https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.21215#0131
By Charlotte M. Mew 127
violence of our ascent; with my free hand I tried to help myself
up by the broad and greasy balustrade. Therewas little sound in
the house. A light shone under the first door we passed, but all
was quietness within.
At the very top, from the dense blackness of the passage,
my guide thrust me suddenly into a dazzling room. My eyes
rejected its array of brilliant light. On a small ehest of drawers
three candles were guttering, two more stood flaring in the high
window ledge, and a lamp upon a table by the bed rendered these
minor illuminations unnecessary by its- diffusive glare. There
were even some small Christmas candles dropping coloured grease
down the wooden mantel-piece, and I noticed a fire had been
made, built entirely of wood. There were bits of an inlaid w<_>rk-
box or desk, and a chair-rung, lying half burnt in the grate. Some
peremptory demand for light had been, these signs denoted
unscrupulously met. A woman lay upon the bed, half clothed,
asleep. As the door slammed behind me the flames wavered and
mycompanion released my hand. She stood beside me, shuddering
violently, but without utterance.
I looked around. Everywhere proofs of recent energy were
visible. The bright panes reflecting back the low burnt candles,
the wretched but shining furniture, and some odd bits of painted
china, set before the spluttering lights upon the drawers, bore
witness to a provincial intolerance of grime. The boards were
bare, and marks of extreme poverty distinguished the whole room.
The destitution of her surroundings aecorded ill with the girl's
spotless person and well-tended hands, which were hanging
tremulously down.
Subsequently I realised that these deserted beings must have
first fronted the world from a sumptuous stage. The details in
proof of it I need not cite. It must have been so.
My
violence of our ascent; with my free hand I tried to help myself
up by the broad and greasy balustrade. Therewas little sound in
the house. A light shone under the first door we passed, but all
was quietness within.
At the very top, from the dense blackness of the passage,
my guide thrust me suddenly into a dazzling room. My eyes
rejected its array of brilliant light. On a small ehest of drawers
three candles were guttering, two more stood flaring in the high
window ledge, and a lamp upon a table by the bed rendered these
minor illuminations unnecessary by its- diffusive glare. There
were even some small Christmas candles dropping coloured grease
down the wooden mantel-piece, and I noticed a fire had been
made, built entirely of wood. There were bits of an inlaid w<_>rk-
box or desk, and a chair-rung, lying half burnt in the grate. Some
peremptory demand for light had been, these signs denoted
unscrupulously met. A woman lay upon the bed, half clothed,
asleep. As the door slammed behind me the flames wavered and
mycompanion released my hand. She stood beside me, shuddering
violently, but without utterance.
I looked around. Everywhere proofs of recent energy were
visible. The bright panes reflecting back the low burnt candles,
the wretched but shining furniture, and some odd bits of painted
china, set before the spluttering lights upon the drawers, bore
witness to a provincial intolerance of grime. The boards were
bare, and marks of extreme poverty distinguished the whole room.
The destitution of her surroundings aecorded ill with the girl's
spotless person and well-tended hands, which were hanging
tremulously down.
Subsequently I realised that these deserted beings must have
first fronted the world from a sumptuous stage. The details in
proof of it I need not cite. It must have been so.
My