Wreckage

This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1893 edition. Excerpt: ... EMBERS The room was small, but the twilight shadows made it appear larger. An iron bedstead; two tables, one covered with papers, the other with a white cloth; a chair by the door, and on it a mudsplashed pair of trousers and a dirty shirt, with a pair of old slippers, trodden down at the heels, underneath; a black, shiny armchair, its horsehair stuffing protruding in places; a deal chest of drawers--this was all the furniture. No kind of ornament, bare walls, not a spot of colour to relieve the cheerlessness. Yet presently, as one looked, two or three details betrayed something of the individuality of the occupant. The papers on the writing-table were arranged in neat stacks; the shirt on the chair had been carefully folded; the slippers lay side by side; but it was the mechanical precision of habit, and not a love of tidiness; for the room was far from clean, and looked almost squalid. But when he came in, he noticed none of these things. A lean young man, with a hesitating gait and tired stoop; lank hair streaked with grey; a yellow, parchment-like skin that puckered in wrinkles round the eyes, and gave a shrivelled look to the whole face; and in the eyes a startling dulness. He lit the little lamp with the green cardboard shade, hung up his hat and his overcoat behind the door, took off his boots and laid them together, just as he had done every evening for the last five years. He lifted up the dirty shirt, and, after looking closely at the cuffs folded it again, and replaced it on the chair. Then he fetched a brush from off the chest of drawers, and began carefully to clean the mud-splashed trousers. When he had nearly finished, the servant-girl brought in his dinner. "Good evening," he said, without looking up. "Good evening, Mr....