The Black Bag, Louis Joseph Vance [some good books to read .txt] 📗

such Romance, thrice refined of dross, as only he knows whohas wooed his Art with passion passing the love of woman.

Far away, above the acres of huddled roofs and chimney-pots, thestorm-mists thinned, lifting transiently; through them, gray, fairy-like,the towers of Westminster and the Houses of Parliament bulked monstrousand unreal, fading when again the fugitive dun vapors closed down upon thecity.

Nearer at hand the Shade of Care nudged Kirkwood's elbow, whisperingsubtly. Romance was indeed dead; the world was cold and cruel.

The gloom deepened.

In the cant of modern metaphysics, the moment was psychological.

There came a rapping at the door.

Kirkwood removed the pipe from between his teeth long enough to say "Comein!" pleasantly.

The knob was turned, the door opened. Kirkwood, turning on one heel, beheldhesitant upon the threshold a diminutive figure in the livery of the Plesspages.

"Mr. Kirkwood?"

Kirkwood nodded.

"Gentleman to see you, sir."

Kirkwood nodded ag