Ashes
Ashes
By C. M. Eddy, Jr.
with H. P. Lovecraft
“Hello, Bruce. Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. Come in.”
I threw open the door, and he followed me into the room. His gaunt, ungainly figure sprawled awkwardly into the chair I indicated, and he twirled his hat between nervous fingers. His deepset eyes wore a worried, hunted look, and he glanced furtively around the room as if searching for a hidden something which might unexpectedly pounce upon him. His face was haggard and colorless. The corners of his mouth twitched spasmodically.
“What’s the matter, old man? You look as if you’d seen a ghost. Brace up!” I crossed to the buffet, and poured a small glass of wine from the decanter. “Drink this!”
He downed it with a hasty gulp, and took to toying with his hat again.
“Thanks, Prague—I don’t feel quite myself tonight.”
“You don’t look it, either! What’s wrong?”
Malcolm Bruce shifted uneasily in his chair.
I eyed him in silence for a moment, wondering what could possibly affect the man so strongly. I knew Bruce as a man of steady nerves and iron will. To find him so visibly upset was, in itself, unusual. I passed cigars, and he selected one, automatically.
By C. M. Eddy, Jr.
with H. P. Lovecraft
“Hello, Bruce. Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. Come in.”
I threw open the door, and he followed me into the room. His gaunt, ungainly figure sprawled awkwardly into the chair I indicated, and he twirled his hat between nervous fingers. His deepset eyes wore a worried, hunted look, and he glanced furtively around the room as if searching for a hidden something which might unexpectedly pounce upon him. His face was haggard and colorless. The corners of his mouth twitched spasmodically.
“What’s the matter, old man? You look as if you’d seen a ghost. Brace up!” I crossed to the buffet, and poured a small glass of wine from the decanter. “Drink this!”
He downed it with a hasty gulp, and took to toying with his hat again.
“Thanks, Prague—I don’t feel quite myself tonight.”
“You don’t look it, either! What’s wrong?”
Malcolm Bruce shifted uneasily in his chair.
I eyed him in silence for a moment, wondering what could possibly affect the man so strongly. I knew Bruce as a man of steady nerves and iron will. To find him so visibly upset was, in itself, unusual. I passed cigars, and he selected one, automatically.
ao3fog
