Oke. You ought to have more consideration for people who believe in
such things, although you may not be able to put yourself in their frame of
mind."
"Who tells you that I don't believe in _such things_, as you call them?"
she answered abruptly.
"Come," she said, after a minute, "I want to show you why I believe in
Christopher Lovelock. Come with me into the yellow room."
5
What Mrs. Oke showed me in the yellow room was a large bundle of papers,
some printed and some manuscript, but all of them brown with age, which she
took out of an old Italian ebony inlaid cabinet. It took her some time to
get them, as a complicated arrangement of double locks and false drawers
had to be put in play; and while she was doing so, I looked round the room,
in which I had been only three or four times before. It was certainly the
most beautiful room in this beautiful house, and, as it seemed to me now,
the most strange. It was long and low, with something that made you think
of the cabin of a ship, with a great mullioned window that let in, as it
were, a perspective of the brownish green park-land, dotted with oaks, and
sloping upwards to the distant line of bluish firs against the horizon.
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