Explore "Sinister House" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Musgrave went thoughtfully off down the street in the direction of his own flat. He might have had the whole of London to himself, so silent and deserted it was. Not even a policeman in sight. In his thin evening shoes, he made little or no sound as he strode along the dry pavement until, at length, he came to Abbey-street, which was the next turning but one to the thoroughfare in which his own flat was situated. A quarter of a mile further and he would be at home.
His mind was deeply engrossed in the startling events of the evening, so that, for some time, he did not notice certain sounds that appeared to come from behind him. Then he became conscious that somebody was following him. He looked round sharply, but no one was in sight.