It was with the sense of a, for him, very memorable something that he peered now into the immediate future, and tried, not without compunction, to take that period up where he had, prospectively, left it. But just where the deuce had he left it? The consciousness of dubiety was, for our friend, not, this morning, quite yet clean-cut enough to outline the figures on what she had called his "horizon," between which and himself the twilight was indeed of a quality somewhat intimidating. He had run up, in the course of time, against a good number of "teasers;" and the function of teasing them backーof, as it were, giving them, every now and then, "what for"ーwas in him so much a habit that he would have been at a loss had there been, on the face of it, nothing to lose. Oh, he always had offered rewards, of courseーhad ever so liberally pasted the windows of his soul with staring appeals, minute descriptions, promises that knew no bounds. But the actual recovery of the articleーthe business of drawing and crossing the cheque, blotched though this were with tears of joyーhad blankly appeared to him rather in the light of a sacrilege, casting, he sometimes felt, a palpable chill on the fervour of the next quest. It was just this fervour that was threatened as, raising himself on his elbow, he stared at the foot of his bed. That his eyes refused to rest there for more than the fraction of an instant, may be takenーwas, even then, taken by Keith Tantalusーas a hint of his recollection that after all the phenomenon wasn't to be singular.画面が切り替わりますので、しばらくお待ち下さい。 ※ご購入は、楽天kobo商品ページからお願いします。 ※切り替わらない場合は、こちら をクリックして下さい。 ※このページからは注文できません。
