It was even reassuring after she had been there a minute or
two.
Then she went to look at the smoking-room where she had sat with him
and heard the curious noise of the cracking wood on the night of the
thaw, when the boy had behaved so foolishly. Here, too, was a fire, a
tall porter's chair drawn on one side with its back to the door, and a
deep leather couch set opposite. There was a box of Laurie's
cigarettes set ready on the table--candles, matches, flowers, the
illustrated papers--yes, everything.
But she stood looking on it all for a few moments with an odd emotion.
It was familiar, homely, domestic--yet it was strange. There was an
air of expectation about it all.... Then on a sudden the emotions
precipitated themselves in tenderness.... Ah! poor Laurie....
* * * * *
"It is all perfectly right," she said to the old lady.
"Are the cigarettes there?"
"Yes: I noticed them particularly."
"And flowers?"
"Yes, flowers too."
"What time is it, my dear? I can't see."
Maggie peered at the clock.
"It's just after six, Auntie. Will you have the candles?"
The old lady shook her head.
"No, my dear: my eyes can't stand the light.
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