On either hand as she rode forward
were low, squat, ugly shacks jammed tight together or with narrow
passageways between their unlovely walls, these spaces more often than
not cluttered and further disfigured by piles of rusty tins, old
clothing and shoes and other discarded refuse. As she rode farther she
saw now and then the more pretentious buildings, some with the false
fronts which deceived nobody, the houses appearing shoddy and aged and
sinister, one here and there deserted and given over to ruin,
disintegration and spiders spinning unmolested in dark corners.
The next peculiar impression created upon her was that some evil charm
was over the place, that in the sweet sunlight it lay drugged, that in
those rows of slatternly shacks where the sunlight did not enter men
either hid in dark secrecy or lay in some unnatural stupour. The whole
settlement seemed preternaturally quiet; the fancy came to her that the
town had died long ago and that she merely looked on its ghost.
She had shrunk before now at the thought of men coming to the doors to
stare after her, and perhaps even to call coarsely after her; now it
seemed the dreariest thing in all the world to ride down this dirty,
muddy street and see no man or woman or child, not so much as a saddled
horse at a hitching pole.
Pages:
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127