There, on the wax of outer things, the inner
self imprints its seal-enforces its fleeting claim to separate
individuality. This thought, with its arresting interest,
made Loder walk slowly, almost seriously, half-way across the
room and then pause to study his surroundings.
The room was of medium size--not too large for comfort and not
too small for ample space. At a first impression it struck
him as unlike any anticipation of a woman's sanctum. The
walls panelled in dark wood; the richly bound books; the
beautifully designed bronze ornaments; even the flowers, deep
crimson and violet-blue in tone, had an air of sombre harmony
that was scarcely feminine. With a strangely pleasant
impression he realized this, and, following his habitual
impulse, moved slowly forward towards the fireplace and there
paused, his elbow resting on the mantel-piece.
He had scarcely settled comfortably into his position,
scarcely entered on his second and more comprehensive study of
the place, than the arrangement of his mind was altered by the
turning of the handle and the opening of the door.
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