Indeed he had, in fancy, beheld even
the chairs and couches covered with stacks of volumes, the very floor
littered with the choicest productions of the brains of the dead and
living. His surprise was, therefore, very great when, on passing through
the door, he beheld Madame Sagittarius reposing at full length upon
a maroon sofa in a small apartment, whose bare walls, were entirely
innocent of book-shelves. Indeed the only thing of the sort which was
visible was a dwarf revolving bookcase which stood beside the sofa, and
contained some twenty volumes bound, as Mr. Sagittarius had stated, in
Persian calf, each of these volumes being numbered and adorned with a
label on which was printed in letters of gold, "The Library of Famous
Literature: Edited by Dr. Carter. Tasty Tit-bits from all Times."
"Madame, sir, in her library," whispered Mr. Sagittarius by the door.
"She is absorbed, sir, and does not notice us."
In truth Madame Sagittarius did appear to be absorbed in thought, or
something else, for her eyes were closed, her mouth was open, and a
sound of regular breathing filled the little room.
"She is thinking out some problem, sir," continued Mr.
Pages:
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245