Articles liés à The Doctor's Lass
Présentation de l'éditeur
Doctor came down to breakfast. The sun, blazing through the great east landing window, stained its elongated image in gold down the stair-case wall, casting a lemon reflection on the Doctor scheek as he descended, to where the fenestral glory faded in the dark spaciousness of stone-flagged hall. A stray gleam of sunlight struck the bleak glasses on the pendant lamp, swinging on its triple chain from a discolored disk on the cracked ceiling, and radiated prismatic spokes of light that diffused themselves over the dim marbled wall-paper, and translated with a quivering eagerness the message of sunshine without to the dreary squareness within. Through the broad fanlight over the door, stained in its border with crimson and amber and regal purple, the Doctor had he lifted his eyes might have seen the message of summer gladness confirmed in a sunlit glimpse of sycamore and drooping green laburnum; with blue sky filling the spaces to the margin of the glass, but he scarcely so much as raised his head.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)
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