I'll move the bed where the
wash-stand is now, and I'll make the chiffonnier swap
places with the couch. One feels on friendlier
terms with furniture that one has shoved about a little.
How brilliant the moonlight is! The room is flooded with
it. Those roses--sweet!--sweet!--"
When I awoke it was morning. During the days that
followed I looked back gratefully upon that night, with
its moonlight, and its roses, and its great peace.
CHAPTER XVII
THE SHADOW OF TERROR
Two days before the date set for Von Gerhard's departure
the book was finished, typed, re-read, packed, and sent
away. Half an hour after it was gone all its most
glaring faults seemed to marshall themselves before my
mind's eye. Whole paragraphs, that had read quite
reasonably before, now loomed ludicrous in perspective.
I longed to snatch it back; to tidy it here, to take it
in there, to smooth certain rough places neglected in my
haste. For almost a year I had lived with this thing, so
close that its faults and its virtues had become
indistinguishable to me. Day and night, for many months,
it had been in my mind. Of late some instinct had
prompted me to finish it. I had worked at it far into
the night, until I marveled that the ancient occupants of
the surrounding rooms did not enter a combined protest
against the clack-clacking of my typewriter keys.
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