Rose glanced wonderingly around at the book-lined walls.

Mr.Richards could pass the dull hours if those were all novels, she thought.
The room beyond was unlit, save by the moon shining brightly through the parted curtains.

Rose examined it, too; it was Mr.Richard's bedroom, but the bed had not been slept in that night.

Everything was orderly and elegant; no evidences of its occupant being an invalid.

One rapid, comprehensive glance was all the girl waited to take; then she turned to hurry back to her own room, and found herself face to face with Ogden.
The valet stood in the doorway, looking at her, his countenance wearing its habitual calm and respectful expression.