Explore "The Damnation of Theron Ware" by Harold Frederic on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At the second peal of the doorbell, Brother Soulsby sat up in bed. It was still pitch-dark, and the memory of the first ringing fluttered musically in his awakening consciousness as a part of some dream he had been having.
"Who the deuce can that be? " he mused aloud, in querulous resentment at the interruption.