Explore "The Eyes" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
THE fire crumbled, sending up a flash which threw into relief the / narrator's gnarled red face under its grey-black stubble. Pressed into / the hollow of the dark leather armchair, it stood out an instant like / an intaglio of yellowish red-veined stone, with spots of enamel for the / eyes; then the fire sank and in the shaded lamp-light it became once / more a dim Rembrandtish blur.
Phil Frenham, sitting in a low chair on the opposite side of the hearth, / one long arm propped on the table behind him, one hand supporting his / thrown-back head, and his eyes steadily fixed on his old friend's face, / had not moved since the tale began. He continued to maintain his silent / immobility after Culwin had ceased to speak, and it was I who, with a / vague sense of disappointment at the sudden drop of the story, finally / asked: "But how long did you keep on seeing them?"