somuchso，indeed，thathefeltashamedofhismomentarysuspicion，anddroopedhisownwhenMrHaredalelookedtowardshim，asifhefearedtheywouldbetrayhisthoughts。
’Willyouwalkthroughthehouse？’saidMrHaredale，withaglancetowardsthewindow，thecrazyshuttersofwhichwereclosedandfastened。’Speaklow。’
Therewasakindofaweabouttheplace，whichwouldhaverendereditdifficulttospeakinanyothermanner。Gabrielwhispered’Yes，’andfollowedhimupstairs。
Everythingwasjustastheyhadseenitlast。Therewasasenseofclosenessfromtheexclusionoffreshair，andagloomandheavinessaround，asthoughlongimprisonmenthadmadetheverysilencesad。Thehomelyhangingsofthebedsandwindowshadbeguntodroop;thedustlaythickupontheirdwindlingfolds;anddampshadmadetheirwaythroughceiling，wall，andfloor。Theboardscreakedbeneaththeirtread，asifresentingtheunaccustomedintrusion;nimblespiders，paralysedbythetaper’sglare，checkedthemotionoftheirhundredlegsuponthewall，ordroppedlikelifelessthingsupontheground;thedeath-watchticked;andthescamperingfeetofratsandmicerattledbehindthewainscot。
Astheylookedaboutthemonthedecayingfurniture，itwasstrangetofindhowvividlyitpresentedthosetowhomithadbelonged，andwithwhomitwasoncefamiliar。Gripseemedtoperchagainuponhishigh-backedchair;Barnabytocrouchinhisoldfavouritecornerbythefire;themothertoresumeherusualseat，andwatchhimasofold。Evenwhentheycouldseparatetheseobjectsfromthephantomsofthemindwhichtheyinvoked，thelatteronlyglidedoutofsight，butlingerednearthemstill;forthentheyseemedtolurkinclosetsandbehindthedoors，readytostartoutandsuddenlyaccosttheminwell-rememberedtones。