Above the aunt and nephew, as they kept this strange vigil, there was
a triple window of stained glass, to illumine the landing and upper
reaches of the stairway. Figures in blue and amber garments posed
gracefully in panels, conceived by some craftsman of the Eighties to
represent Love and Purity and Beauty, and these figures, leaded to
unalterable attitudes, were little more motionless than the two human
beings upon whom fell the mottled faint light of the window. The
colours were growing dull; evening was coming on.
Fanny Minafer broke the long silence with a sound from her throat, a
stilled gasp; and with that great companion of hers, her handkerchief,
retired softly to the loneliness of her own chamber. After she had
gone George looked about him bleakly, then on tiptoe crossed the hall
and went into his own room, which was filled with twilight. Still
tiptoeing, though he could not have said why, he-went across the room
and sat down heavily in a chair facing the window. Outside there was
nothing but the darkening air and the wall of the nearest of the new
houses.
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