Her eyes roved from one object to another, first
looking at the pictures on the wall, then the ornaments upon the mantel,
then the lamp upon the table just before her, then,--
Between the lamp, and a tall vase that stood near it, a pair of eyes
were looking sharply at her.
Gwen clutched the arms of her chair, caught her breath in terror, and
then screamed.
"Strange that I can't read without being interrupted by a child who
knows no better than to poke her impudent little nose in here,
uninvited!"
The voice low and angry made her tremble with fear, and she slid from
the chair, raced out through the hall, ran down the street, never once
looked behind her.
"I won't _ever_ go _anywhere_ again, unless somebody asks me to," she
said to herself. Who that ever had known Gwen would believe that she
could refrain from doing just the same thing, the first time that her
curiosity prompted her? She had been frightened, and, for the moment,
would have promised anything.
The man, a studious, quiet man, with an unpleasant disposition, had
been annoyed when Gwen had interrupted his reading.
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