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    The Lifted Bandage
    The Lifted Bandage
    The Lifted Bandage
    Ebook45 pages32 minutes

    The Lifted Bandage

    By Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateAug 1, 2007
    The Lifted Bandage

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      Book preview

      The Lifted Bandage - Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

      The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Lifted Bandage, by Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: The Lifted Bandage

      Author: Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

      Release Date: May 24, 2005 [eBook #15894]

      Language: English

      Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

      ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LIFTED BANDAGE***

      E-text prepared by David Garcia

      and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team

      from page images generously made available by the

      Kentuckiana Digital Library http://kdl.kyvl.org/

      THE LIFTED BANDAGE

      By

      Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

      Author of The Perfect Tribute, etc.

      NEW YORK

      Charles Scribner's Sons

      1910

      THE LIFTED BANDAGE

      The man let himself into his front door and, staggering lightly, like a drunken man, as he closed it, walked to the hall table, and mechanically laid down his hat, but still wearing his overcoat turned and went into his library, and dropped on the edge of a divan and stared out through the leaded panes of glass across the room facing him. The grayish skin of his face seemed to fall in diagonal furrows, from the eyes, from the nose, from the mouth. He sat, still to his finger-tips, staring.

      He was sitting so when a servant slipped in and stood motionless a minute, and went to the wide window where the west light glared through leafless branches outside, and drew the shades lower, and went to the fireplace and touched a match. Wood caught and crackled and a cheerful orange flame flew noisily up the chimney, but the man sitting on the divan did not notice. The butler waited a moment, watching, hesitating, and then:

      Have you had lunch, sir? he asked in a tentative, gentle voice.

      The staring eyes moved with an effort and rested on the servant's face. Lunch? he repeated, apparently trying to focus on the meaning of the word. Lunch? I don't know, Miller. But don't bring anything.

      With a great anxiety in his face Miller regarded his master. Would you let me take your overcoat, Judge?—you'll be too warm, he said.

      He spoke in a suppressed tone as if waiting for, fearing something, as if longing to show sympathy, and the man stood and let himself be cared for, and then sat down again in the same unrestful, fixed attitude, gazing out again through the glittering panes into the stormy, tawny west sky. Miller came back and

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