Man-Size In Marble by Edith Nesbit, 1887
The magic trick:
Masterfully haunting tone-setting
This one has a ghost-story intro that would make Henry James and Edith Wharton proud, establishing as it does a vibe of fear and tragedy before the plot begins.
It closes with two sentences that are textbook:
“There were three who took part in this: Laura and I and another man. The other man still lives, and can speak to the truth of the least credible part of my story.”
The narrator mentions two people beyond himself in the first sentence. By the second sentence, only one is still there.
That’s masterful stuff right there.
And that’s quite a trick on Nesbit’s part.
The selection:
We had three months of married happiness, and did not have a single quarrel. One October evening I had been down to smoke a pipe with the doctor—our only neighbour—a pleasant young Irishman. Laura had stayed at home to finish a comic sketch of a village episode for the Monthly Marplot. I left her laughing over her own jokes, and came in to find her a crumpled heap of pale muslin weeping on the window seat.
“Good heavens, my darling, what’s the matter?” I cried, taking her in my arms. She leaned her little dark head against my shoulder and went on crying. I had never seen her cry before—we had always been so happy, you see—and I felt sure some frightful misfortune had happened.
“What is the matter? Do speak.”
“It’s Mrs. Dorman,” she sobbed.
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