The Face of Rosenfeld — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SN ETE ae CRE Pe te? CR CC ae a eae renee PEE or Re Regn RE Pia hoe ; + hy ee ee t : f= ‘ . 1 aoe '’ e ? A ; a | ‘ itd ere kt rs ? : me A “st Ye eile 2 o — + A 3 re . wviig?? oe sige : ‘ , Way 5 Sia wu} — : L % a. yy Mum Ny : A oe) st: Oye ‘ i 164 THH FACH OF ROSENTEL, “«“Very. You notice these little things, Annette, Do you know, I have worked in this room alone for months, and for my part I never noticed whether the windows rattled or were still. There! Was not that it?” ‘‘T did not hear it then. I was listening to you, Mr. Maxey. Listen again and it willcome. I wish I were not foolish enough to be afraid of it. Hark!” In the silence that ensued they could hear each other breathing. Perhaps it was nervousness, but Maxey felt strangely excited. A low knocking—not the knocking they were waiting for—came to their ears ee the closed door. ‘© How very odd!” exclaimed Maxey. ‘‘' That was not the touch of a ghostly zephyr, but the substantial rap of somebody tangible who wants to get in.” ‘It must be a timid person who would knock so low.” ‘Probably it is. Some beggar, doubtless. Impecu- niousness is occasionally timid. Don’t disturb yourself, Annette.” Maxey stepped into the vestibule and opened the outer door. He regarded the man who had summoned him there with a look of speechless surprise. It was Mr. Dye. There was the woebegone beaver, the shiny, thread-bare coat, the faded blue eyes, the long hair fall- ing over the ears, the smooth face with its expression of hapless melancholy, and all that went to make up the peculiar group of mental impressions which Maxey had learned since the first meeting—now weeks ago—to asso- ciate with the name Leander Dye. ‘© You!” was Maxey’s only utterance. ‘¢J, sir!” said the somber voice. ‘‘Pardon me if I