The Face of Rosenfeld — page 215: what you’re looking at

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

908 THE FACE OF ROSENFEL. papers in your hand, you would not think of me here- after with so much bitterness.” «Mr. Dye,” said Maxey, suddenly, ‘‘ the time to drop this mask of yours is fully ripe?” The somber man half turned a. his chair. ‘Sir, I fail to understand you.” ‘“No? Suppose that I were to tell you that I know who sent you here?” The words had a marked effect on Mr. Dye. He in- stantly completed that which the former question had caused him to begin, and turned wholly about in his chair, facing the artist with an ashy countenance. As he did so his eye fell upon the picture. | Maxey noticed his sudden silence, though he imper- fectly understood the cause. Mr. Dye sat in his chair without motion, his faded eyes wide open, looking intently at the portrait on the easel. There would have been complete silence in the room but for the ticking of the clock on the mantel, the escape of the burning gas, the distant sound of voices in the rear chamber. Then Mr. Dye arose, steadying himself on the chair- back with his shaking hand—arose, and turning his eyes on Maxey, held out his free arm in a questioning way toward the easel: , © What is the matter? Are youill? I don’t under- stand you. ‘hat isa picture my wife sketched.” A terrible trembling came upon every portion of the somber man’s frame. He cried out in a hoarse voice: ‘<The Jew’s face! The Jew’s face!” There was a rush like the breath of unseen wings from over the darkened river. The ghostly hand rapped at the window, and Mr. Dye fell down upon the floor, —