Explore "The Missioner" by E. Phillips Oppenheim on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Up the broad avenue to the great house of Thorpe, Stephen Hurd slowly made his way, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes fixed upon the ground. But his appearance was not altogether the appearance of a man overcome with grief. The events of the last few days had told upon him, and his deep mourning had a sombre look. Yet there were thoughts working even then in his brain which battled hard with his natural depression. Strange things had happened -- stranger things than he was able all at once to digest. He could not see the end, but there were possibilities upon which he scarcely dared to brood.
He was shown into the library and left alone for nearly twenty minutes. Then Wilhelmina came, languid, and moving as though with tired feet. Yet her manner was gentler and kinder than usual. She leaned back in one of the vast easy-chairs, and murmured a few graceful words of sympathy.