The Novel of the White Powder
"I have seen that man," he began in a dry whisper. "I have been sitting in his presence for the last hour. My God! And I am alive and in my senses! I, who have dealt with death all my life, and have dabbled with the melting ruins of the earthly tabernacle. But not this, oh! not this," and he covered his face with his hands as if to shut out the sight of something before him.
"Do not send for me again, Miss Leicester," he said with more composure. "I can do nothing in this house. Good-bye."
As I watched him totter down the steps; and along the pavement towards his house, it se