Startled from its meditations by his sudden propinquity to the object
that he had unwittingly approached, he now, for the first time, examined
the lonely abode before him with real attention.
There was nothing remarkable about the house, save the extreme
desolateness of its appearance, which seemed to arise partly from its
isolated position, and partly from the unusual absence of all decoration
on its external front. It was too extensive to have been the dwelling
of a poor man, too void of pomp and ornament to have been a mansion of
the rich. It might, perhaps, have belonged to some citizen, or
foreigner, or the middle class--some moody Northman, some solitary
Egyptian, some scheming Jew. Yet, though it was not possessed, in
itself, of any remarkable or decided character, the Goth experienced a
mysterious, almost an eager curiosity to examine its interior. He could
assign no cause, discover no excuse for the act, as he slowly mounted
the steps before him. Some invisible and incomprehensible magnet
attracted him to the dwelling.
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