Читать книгу Put Out the Light - Ethel Lina White - Страница 3
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I. — THE SHADOW
WHEN Miss Vine went to bed she was accompanied by her shadow thrown on the white marble wall.
At first, it was a blurred, servile shape, that slunk behind her, dogging her heel. Then it attained her own stature and grew clearer, keeping pace with her as a friendly silhouette.
But, at the bend of the staircase, it changed and became terrible. A monstrous distortion, it shot up—taller and taller—until it leaped over her head and rushed before her, to her own room.
At that moment, Miss Anthea Vine always felt afraid. In the turgid depths of her heart she knew that it was stealing on to search for that other darker shadow, which, one night, would be waiting for her...
By day, Oldtown was a homely huddle of roofs, clustering in a tree-lined valley; but, by night, it was a black bowl filled to the brim with shadows.
Timid, fluttering shadows; squat, swollen shadows; mean, sneaking shadows; starved, elongated shadows; poisonous, malignant shadows, they foamed up in the brew and overflowed the rim, into the streets—hiding in corners, stealing into windows, following people home.
Fighting the shadows, were the lights of Oldtown, which swarmed over the black bowl, like golden bees. It was easy to trace the chain of lamps in the High Street and the glowing dial of the Town Hall clock amid the chaotic straggle of the widely spaced illuminations.
One other light was distinct in character and received definite recognition. Every evening, at eleven o'clock, it glowed from out the left wing of the great pile of Jamaica Court. The porters at the hillside station always watched for it, as it was more punctual than their scheduled trains. In addition, it was informative, for it broadcast a parochial news bulletin.
Miss Anthea Vine was going to bed.
At twelve o'clock, to the stroke, the light went out.
