large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb_88
large/8934/worshipper_image_1410_librivox_64kb_mp3/worshipperimage_01_legallienne_64kb
English
8934
The face was smiling, a smile of great peace, and also of a strange cunning. One other characteristic it had: the woman looked as though at any moment she would suddenly open her eyes, and if you turned away from her and looked again, she seemed to be smiling to herself because she had opened them that moment behind your back, and just closed them again in time. It was a face that never changed and yet was always changing. THE FACE WAS SMILING A SMILE OF GREAT PEACE AND ALSO OF A STRANGE CUNNING ONE OTHER CHARACTERISTIC IT HAD THE WOMAN LOOKED AS THOUGH AT ANY MOMENT SHE WOULD SUDDENLY OPEN HER EYES AND IF YOU TURNED AWAY FROM HER AND LOOKED AGAIN SHE SEEMED TO BE SMILING TO HERSELF BECAUSE SHE HAD OPENED THEM THAT MOMENT BEHIND YOUR BACK AND JUST CLOSED THEM AGAIN IN TIME IT WAS A FACE THAT NEVER CHANGED AND YET WAS ALWAYS CHANGING
reamed since childhood—the dark moth with the face of death between his wings." The châlet stood on a little clearing, in a little circle of pines. From it the ground sloped down towards the valley, and at some distance beneath smoke curled from a house lost amid clouds of foliage, the abounding green life of this damp and brooding hollow. A great window looking down the woodside filled one side of the châlet, and the others were dark with books, an occasional picture or figured jar lighting up the shadow. A small fire flickered beneath a quaintly devised mantel, though it was summer—for the mists crept up the hill at night and chilled the souls of the books. A great old bureau, with a wonderful belly of mahogany, filled a corner of the room, breathing antique mystery and refinement. At one end of it, on a small vacant space of wall, hung a cast, apparently the death-mask of a woman, by which the eye was immediately attracted with something of a shock and held by a curious fascination. MOTH OF WHICH I HAVE DREAMED SINCE CHILDHOOD THE DARK MOTH WITH A FACE OF DEATH BETWEEN HIS WINGS THE CHALET STOOD ON A LITTLE CLEARING IN A LITTLE CIRCLE OF PINES FROM THE GROUND IT SLOPED DOWN TOWARDS THE VALLEY AND AT SOME DISTANCE BENEATH SMOKE CURLED FROM A HOUSE LOST AMID CLOUDS OF FOLIAGE THE ABOUNDING GREEN LIFE OF THIS DAMP AND BROODING HOLLOW A GREAT WINDOW LOOKING DOWN THE WOOD SIDE FILLED ONE SIDE OF THE CHALET AND THE OTHERS WERE DARK WITH BOOKS AN OCCASIONAL PICTURE OR FIGURE JAR LIGHTING UP THE SHADOW A SMALL FIRE FLICKERED BENEATH A QUAINTLY DEVISED MANTLE THOUGH IT WAS SUMMER FOR THE MIST CREPT UP THE HILL AT NIGHT AND CHILLED THE SOULS OF THE BOOKS A GREAT OLD BUREAU WITH A WONDERFUL BELLY OF MAHOGANY FILLED A CORNER OF THE ROOM BREATHING ANTIQUE MYSTERY AND REFINEMENT AT ONE END OF IT ON A SMALL VACANT SPACE OF WALL HUNG A CAST APPARENTLY THE DEATH MASK OF A WOMAN BY WHICH THE EYE WAS IMMEDIATELY ATTRACTED WITH SOMETHING OF A SHOCK AND HAILED BY A CURIOUS FASCINATION
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