A
new feeling about Winifred's madness came upon me. I recalled
Mivart's horrible description of the mimicry. My God! what was I
about to see? I dared not turn and go upstairs: the fire and the
singing tea-kettle were, at least, companions. But something impelled
me to take the bow and draw it across the crwth-strings. Presently I
thought I heard a door overhead softly open, and this was followed by
the almost inaudible creak of a light footstep descending the stairs.
With paralysed pulses I kept my eyes fixed on the half-open door, in
the certainty of seeing her pass along the little passage leading
from the staircase to the front door. But as I heard the dear
footsteps descend stair after stair my horror left me, and I nearly
began to sob myself. My thoughts now were all for her safety. I
slipped into the recess, fearing to take her by surprise.
Soon the slim girlish figure passed into the room. And as I saw her
glide along I was stunned, as though I had not expected to see her,
as though I had not known the footstep coming down the stairs.
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