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Quiller-Couch, Arthur Thomas, Sir, 1863-1944

"Poison Island"

Here he paused again, and
with another wave of the hand.
High on the right of the gorge, on a plateau above the dark
pine-tops, a white-painted house looked down on us--a long, low house
with a generous spread of shadow under its verandah and a dazzle of
light where the upper windows took the sun.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

WE FIND THE TREASURE.
"I've a strong sense of the right of property," said Miss Belcher,
sipping her tea.
We had gathered in Dr. Beauregard's deep verandah, at the corner
where it took the late afternoon sunshine. The level rays sparkled
on the silver and delicate Worcester china of the Doctor's tea
equipage, and fell through the open French window into the Doctor's
drawing-room. A wonderful room it was, as everything in the house
was wonderful, a spacious, airy room, furnished in white and gold,
with Dresden figures on the mantelshelf; Venetian mirrors, dainty
water-colours sunk into the panels, cases of rare books (among them,
as I remember, a set of the Cabinet des Fees, bound in rose-coloured
morocco and stamped with the Royal arms of France), stands of music,
and a priceless harpsichord inlaid with ivory. Next to the airiness
of the house, which stood high above reach of the valley mists with
their malaria, what most sharply impressed me, and the ladies in
particular, was its exquisite cleanliness.


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