Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/291

 "I myself am not hungry," he said, "nor am I particularly tired. For the dog's sake I had to pause. See, he is enjoying himself immensely. I think even in these few moments he has grown fatter."

Scobee in the chimney-corner listened to the desultory conversation. The voice of the stranger was soft-pitched, lovely. He almost imagined that he could visualize his appearance. Was that Chinese philosopher right who had declared that the sum of one's faculties is always ten? Had his sense of hearing become more acute. The voice of the stranger affected him oddly.

He felt as though some great beauty enveloped the house that night Perhaps the feeling was only natural for it was Christmas Eve and there is much of magic around on such a night. Still the feeling of beauty persisted even after he had gone to his room and undressed.

When at last he had finally snuggled into bed, sleep came to him almost instantly, a calm refreshing sleep. And silence descended