The Environment My heart pounded. Sweat dripped off my forehead, I used my arm to wipe it off. It was rather dark considering it was a winter's day at 4 o'clock in the afternoon and the dull fog wasn't helping to brighten it up.
I ran quickly and took cover under a table. I was like a shy kitten, afraid of the big, terrifying world. What would Sir Leicester say to all of this? Footsteps echoed off the mahogany walls, fear wrapped itself around Lady Rutherford and her blue eyes stared in terror at the small, black shoes approaching her.
As she looked up, a man, around seventy years old, towered over her. His untidy, black hair shadowed his face; his dark brown eyes watched Lady Rutherford as closely as possible.
Strange things have happened, and the master of the house is still searching frantically for any intruders. She slowly stood up and wiped the dust off of her dress.
I did not intrude deliberately, but I cannot explain how I got here. The man continued to stare at her suspiciously, his eyes looked tired and his wrinkles were deep.
The man stumbled awkwardly from the room and left Lady Rutherford standing alone. She started to panic. Does he think I murdered that woman? All of these thoughts ran through my mind.
I was a wrongly convicted criminal, about to be hung. I noticed another door in the large room, and I made my way over to it. There were no noises behind this door, so I did not even hesitate to open it and enter. The room was dark and Lady Rutherford could not see anything.
She felt her way around, hoping to avoid any tables and chairs. She felt a cupboard, its wood damp and uneven.
The floor beneath her creaked eerily and the sound clawed at her ears like a rabid animal. Her eyes yearned for light, something that was becoming a distant memory. Finally, she felt around the cupboard and found a wall. She followed it intensely until her hands stroked a soft fabric, which she immediately assumed to be curtains.
Her sense of touch was so occupied that Lady Rutherford did not even notice the putrid smell from the room. As the curtains opened, her eyes fed gratefully on the light from the window.
Lady Rutherford looked around the room as her eyes adjusted quickly. This room was similar to the previous one, but unclean and dusty. She turned to the window, and looked out onto the grounds of the large house. She gasped suddenly as she realised where she was. Why was I here? Fate seemed to taunt me.
One affair had changed everything…but I was starting to forget, to forgive myself for what I had done, and whom I had betrayed. Now Lady Turner was dead. In a sick sense that had brought comfort to me.
Jealously was always my weakness, and how jealous I was of Lady Turner.Good writing streams from beginning to end without reminding readers of your construction. But both beginners and seasoned writers sometimes sabotage that flow when they allow in a writer’s nemesis—The Viewpoint Intruder.
No one knew why Isabel had come to the school but they all just put up with it until someone- no one knew who- called the police. There was an awful lot of commotion over Isabel- she was now known as 'The Intruder'- and it all seemed a bit too much- just silly and pathetic.
People making a fuss over nothing- that's what everyone said. Strange things have happened, and the master of the house is still searching frantically for any intruders.” The old man seemed anxious, and Lady Rutherford was bewildered. She slowly stood up and wiped the dust off of her dress.
In The Intruder, Maurice Maeterlinck superbly evokes feelings of fearful suspense and anxiety through the simple repetition of phrases, the device of light diminishing into darkness, and.
- Contrasting Lucas Beauchamp of Go Down, Moses and Joe Christmas of Light in August Lucas Beauchamp, found in Intruder in the Dust and Go Down, Moses, is one of William Faulkner's most psychologically well-rounded characters.
"The Intruder By Andre Dubus" Essays and Research Papers The Intruder By Andre Dubus Killings by Andre Dubus The story of “Killings” by Andre Dubus looked into the themes of .