Explore "The Triumph Of Night" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the gallery, the instinct of self-preservation helped him to turn back and sign to young Rainer not to follow. He stammered out something about a touch of dizziness, and joining them presently; and the boy nodded sympathetically and drew back.
At the foot of the stairs Faxon ran against a servant. "I should like to telephone to Weymore," he said with dry lips.