With an expressionless face he went in and left the last lamp burning dimly on the mantelpiece, like a votary candle on an altar of the dead.

Issuing forth again he cast a look around him and walked to Robert Turold's study at the end of the passage.

The door was closed, but he opened it and entered.
Robert Turold was busily engaged writing at a large table by the light of a swinging lamp.

He looked up from his papers as Thalassa entered, and thoughtfully watched him as he trimmed the lamp and tended the fire.

With these duties completed Thalassa still lingered, as though he expected his master to speak.
"What's the glass like to-night, Thalassa ?" remarked Robert Turold absently.
The allusion was to a weather glass which hung in the hall downstairs.