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Hichens, Robert Smythe, 1864-1950

"Flames"

It rang through the room noisily. A thick
hoarseness dressed it as in disease, and at moments broke it and crushed
it down. Then it would emerge as in a sigh or wail, pushing its way up
with all the mechanical power of the voice of a wild animal, and mounting
to a desperate climax, sinister and alarming. So unlike ordinary singing
was the performance of this voice that, after the first paralysis of
surprise and disgust had passed away from the doctor and Julian, they
both felt the immediate necessity of putting a period to this deadly
song, to which no words gave the faintest touch of humanity. They knew
that it must attract and rivet the attention of others in the mansions,
even possibly of passers-by in the street. The doctor withdrew his gaze
from Valentine's at length, and turned hastily to Julian, whom he found
regarding him with a glance almost of horror.
"Stop him," Julian murmured.
"You!" answered Levillier.
And then each knew that the other was in some nervous crisis that
rendered action almost an impossibility. And while they thus hesitated
there came a loud, repeated, and unsteady knock at the door. Julian
opened it. Valentine's man was standing outside, pale and anxious.
"Good God, sir," he ejaculated.


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