The old lady, if she was still there, had turned out the gas: she seemed to have a weird preference for sitting in the dark.
Without another word Rupert lit the gas again.

The little old lady turned her bird-like head as we all stumbled forward in the strong gaslight.

Then, with a quickness that almost made me jump, she sprang up and swept a sort of old-fashioned curtsey or reverence.

I looked quickly at Greenwood and Burrows, to whom it was natural to suppose this subservience had been offered.

I felt irritated at what was implied in this subservience, and desired to see the faces of the tyrants as they received it.