乜庚 555万字 25924人读过 连载
"keep quiet," said the man. "if you stir, i shoot you."
he hesitated for some moments, with a strangely immobile smile upon his face. then shivering, though the atmosphere of the room was terribly hot, he drew himself up and glanced at the clock. it was twenty minutes to twelve. he put the box back, shutting the cabinet doors as he did so, and went into his bedroom.
then he remembered the lamp. it was a rather curious one of moorish workmanship, made of dull silver inlaid with arabesques of burnished steel, and studded with coarse turquoises. perhaps it might be missed by his servant, and questions would be asked. he hesitated for a moment, then he turned back and took it from the table. he could not help seeing the dead thing. how still it was! how horribly white the long hands looked! it was like a dreadful wax image.
"let us go and sit in the shade," said lord henry. "parker has brought out the drinks, and if you stay any longer in this glare, you will be quite spoiled, and basil will never paint you again. you really must not allow yourself to become sunburnt. it would be unbecoming."