and yet for some moment of
time which seemed long, but which must have been very short, I caught
myself wondering what on earth was the matter. Then I knew what had
made my very heart shudder and my bones grind together in an agony. As I
glanced up I had looked straight towards the last house in the row
before me, and in an upper window of that house I had seen for some
short fraction of a second a face. It was the face of a woman, and yet
it was not human. You and I, Salisbury, have heard in our time, as we
sat in our seats in church in sober English fashion, of a lust that
cannot be satiated and of a fire that is unquenchable, but few of us
have any notion what these words mean. I hope you never may, for as I
saw that face at the window, with the blue sky above me and the warm air
playing in gusts about me, I knew I had looked into another
world--looked through the window of a commonplace, brand-new house, and
seen hell open before me. When the first shock was over, I thought once
or twice that I should have fainted; my face streamed with a cold sweat,
and my breath came and went in sobs, as if I had been half drowned. I
managed to get up at last, and walked round to the street, and there I
saw the name "Dr. Black" on the post by the front gate. As fate or my
luck would have it, the door opened and a man came down the steps as I
passed by. I had no doubt it was the doctor himself. He was of a type
rather common in London; long and thin, with a pasty face and a dull
black moustache. He gave me a look as we passed each other on the
pavement, and though it was merely the casual glance which one
foot-passenger bestows on another, I felt convinced in my mind that here
was an ugly customer to deal with. As you may imagine, I went my way a
good deal puzzled and horrified too by what I had seen; for I had paid
another visit to the "General Gordon," and had got together a good deal
of the common gossip of the place about the Blacks. I didn't mention the
fact that I had seen a woman's face in the window; but I heard that Mrs.
Black had been much admired for her beautiful golden hair, and round
what had struck me with such a nameless terror, there was a mist of
flowing yellow hair, as it were an aureole of glory round the visage of
a satyr. The whole thing bothered me in an indescribable manner; and
when I got home I tried my best to think of the impression I had
received as an illusion, but it was no use. I knew very well I had