The Face of Rosenfeld — page 59: what you’re looking at

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

52, THE FACE OF ROSENFEL, its concussion, starting, as it were, out of the very sound itself, he heard again that low, tremulous utterance that was neither a moan of pain nor a pleafor mercy, but akin to both, just as he had heard it borne on the bitter wind © from the darkening sea that night on the rocks above the surging of the waves. ‘There was something in the cry that completely unnerved Maxey. It had always been his terror. Now, intensified by the circumstances, it assumed the potency of Fate itself. His hand trem- bled so he made several futile attempts before he could strike a light.. Finally the slender shaft took fire and blazed up. Maxey touched a gas-jet. In the glare that followed he saw the girl they called Annette sitting, robed in white, upon the edge of the little bed in the. alcove room, wringing her hands in the old, nervous fashion, her fearful, white face turned toward him, her dark eyes regarding him with dread. But it was not this that chilled him to the heart; that made the color fade from his lips till they were ashen. It was the spectacle of his sister, Ellen Maxey, thrown down across her bed, a silk handkerchief twisted about her neck and her fingers clasping the ends in desperate energy. ler dtace was black, and when he spoke to her she did not move. His voice seemed to awake an echo in the place. | Nothing else but the wind rattling the panes, and faintly the grinding of the ice against the stones as the tide flowed to the sea! i <b’ A; - PING 07) SF REIN CANTLY flee ib. a heh