It was a large, littered, self-forgetful apartment, decorated with unframed charcoal sketches by various incipient masters; and an open bookcase, surmounted by plaster casts and the half of a human skull, displayed an odd miscellany of books—Shaw and Swinburne, Tom Jones, Fabian Essays, Pope and Dumas, cheek by jowl. ’ As if to bear her out, the door opened at this precise moment to admit Saling, who barely announced Captain Roding before the man himself strode into the room. ” He threw open the door of the sitting-room and switched on the electric light. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. "Go on first with the light," he said.
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