Beyond the dining room was their bedroom,
and beyond that a chamber which, for years
in a state of deserted, semi-ruin, Gordon
had had newly floored and rendered weather-proof,
and now used as a place of assemblage. He found
Lettice there when he had finished supper.
She was sitting beside a small table which held a
lighted lamp with a shade of minute, woven pieces
of various silks. Behind her was a cottage organ,
a mass of fretted woodwork; a wall pierced by a
window was ornamented by a framed photograph
of a woman dead and in her coffin. The photograph
had faded to a silvery monotony, but the details
of the rigid, unnatural countenance, the fixed
staring eyes, were still clear. Redly varnished
chairs with green plush cushions and elaborate,
thread antimacassars, a second table ranged against
the wall, bearing a stout volume entitled "A Cloud
of Witnesses," and a cheap phonograph, completed
the furnishing.
It was warm without, but Lettice had shut the
window, the shawl was still about her shoulders.
She was sewing upon a small piece of white material.
[[164]]
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