Explore "Miranda of the Balcony" by A.E.W. Mason on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A week after Wilbraham's departure from Ronda, the night fell very dark at Tangier. In the Sok outside the city gate, the solitary electric lamp from its tall mast threw a pale light over a circle of the trampled grass, but outside the circle all was black. There was no glimmer in the tents of the shoemakers at the upper corner of the Sok; nor was there any stir or noise. For it was past midnight and the world was asleep -- except at one spot on the hill-side above the Sok, and a little distance to the right.
There a small villa, standing by itself, shone gaudily in the heart of the blackness. From its open windows a yellow flood of light streamed out, and besides the light, the music of a single violin and the rhythmical beat of feet. There were other noises too, such as the popping of corks, and much laughter.