Sublime

McAnnis is near the Blake house when he sees, or thinks he sees, a figure on the dirt road far ahead. Like him, without a flashlight. But, unlike him, familiar with the road. McAnnis can’t tell if it’s the same person as earlier that evening. But he thinks not. The figure disappears into one of the trails that crisscross the club’s many acres. McAn

as inscrutable as ever. ‘You’ll find it eventually,’ said Thomas. ‘Look –’ With a gesture inconceivable in any other room, and from any other man, he lifted James’s finger and described a pale curve in the centre of the circle. ‘That is what they call Barnard’s Loop,’ he said. James took his finger quickly from the paper, and paused before he spoke

quiescence,

Suddenly the remembrance of what had lately passed in this closet occurred. Whether midnight was approaching, or had passed, I knew not. I was, as then, alone, and defenceless. The wind was in that direction in which, aided by the deathlike repose of nature, it brought to me the murmur of the water-fall. This was mingled with that solemn and enchan

chiaroscuro).