Wragge's studies
by spreading the cloth for dinner. Magdalen placed herself at the table
in a position which still enabled her to command the view from the
window. Nothing happened. The dinner came to an end; Mrs. Wragge (lulled
by the narcotic influence of annotating circulars, and eating and
drinking with an appetite sharpened by the captain's absence) withdrew
to an arm-chair, and fell asleep in an attitude which would have caused
her husband the acutest mental suffering; seven o'clock struck; the
shadows of the summer evening lengthened stealthily on the gray pavement
and the brown house-walls--and still the closed door opposite remained
shut; still the one window open showed nothing but the black blank of
the room inside, lifeless and changeless as if that room had been a
tomb.
Mrs. Wragge's meek snoring deepened in tone; the evening wore on
drearily; it was close on eight o'clock--when an event happened at last.
The street door opposite opened for the first time, and a woman appeared
on the threshold.
Was the woman Mrs. Lecount? No. As she came nearer, her dress showed her
to be a servant. She had a large door-key in her hand, and was evidently
going out to perform an errand.
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