Explore "The Mystery of the Ravenspurs" by Fred M. White on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the darkness nobody spoke for a moment. Not one of them could have said anything for a king's ransom. Apart from the feeling of suffocation, the gradual poppy sleep of death that filled the room as a great wave suddenly engulfs some rocky cave, the dramatic horror of the darkness held them fast.
At the same time there was something of a shock, a healthy shock in the plunge from light to gloom. A fitful, purple gleam still flickered where the blazing paraffin had licked the hard, polished oak floor; the breath of the sea breeze was bracing. It was Marion who first came to herself as one comes out of a horrid nightmare.