Explore "Avery" by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps Ward on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Avery stood irresolute. "It is one of those hallucinations," he thought. "This shock -- following the wreck -- has confused me. " The voice was not repeated; and after a few moments' hesitation he opened the door of his wife's room.
It was neither dark nor light in the chamber; something like twilight filled the room, which, unlike the house, was not heavy with the excessive perfume of flowers. A handful of violets (modest, winning, and like Jean) was all that had been admitted; these stood on a table beside her Bible and prayer-book, her little portfolio, and her pen and inkstand.