“This staircase,” she pointed with elegant gestures, “This staircase leads to my son’s floor.”
My first meeting with Mrs. Bowers During this short meeting, I felt that one of the many moving parts of her beautiful face was the serene look, but this time the serene look was completely gone.
Now she sees her deep blue eyes only through her drooping long eyelashes. Her beautiful white hair, circle by circle, is now under my eyes. She lowered her head, trying to hide her too painful mood.
For a moment, I could only stare blankly at her two white eyebrows, her curvy red lips. I was so demure just now, and I suddenly changed, which made me overwhelmed.
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I suddenly felt strange that a woman with such a beautiful appearance would always remain widowed. At this time I turned back to look at the stairs.
The staircase of the wide waxed wood staircase is blocked by a gate. The gate is copper, from the floor to my waist. My eyes looked down the stairs, above it was the highest floor.
Like everything in this ancient giant house, the stair railings are luxurious. It followed a wide staircase to the top floor, turned a corner, and then submerged into a thick velvet green curtain, which could not be seen behind the curtain. When I looked at it curiously, I heard the piano sound of playing one of Beethoven’s most mysterious works.
I just started to indulge in the melody, and suddenly a tremor suddenly, I can only say that there is a kind of doubt. I feel like I felt many years ago when I doubted who was hiding in my room. This instinct did not deceive me at the time, and I concluded that it did not deceive me now.
I have no doubt in my heart that a person lurking behind the thick curtain on the top of the stairs. It seems that there is a person, he or she, who comes into contact with those things day and night and leaves something on them.