Johnyxxx
Senior Member
- Joined
- Oct 28, 2014
- Member Type
- Interested in Language
- Native Language
- Czech
- Home Country
- Czech Republic
- Current Location
- Czech Republic
Hi,
Can anybody explain to me what the author means by the shoulder of the house?
Lying in the dark with nothing by which to measure time except the beating of my heart, minutes or hours may have passed before I fell asleep. I have no precise idea how long I lay there listening, or even if I ever was wholly asleep. Probably I was, because the next thing I knew was that something was happening outside the house. The thing that woke me was surprising. My room, as I have said, looked down on the court between the shoulder of the house and the narrower strip of the ell back to the barn. Its windows faced almost north, and hence along the road that led up the Point and ultimately to Barsham Harbor. The corner of the barn was between me and most of that road, which was perhaps why the sound of feet on it had not waked me sooner. Anyhow, there was the squelch and thud of feet outside. Someone was approaching the house and the tempo of the steps was hurried. Whoever it was had a long stride and was hurrying, though not running.
William Sloane, Edge of Running Water, 1939.
Thanks a lot.
Can anybody explain to me what the author means by the shoulder of the house?
Lying in the dark with nothing by which to measure time except the beating of my heart, minutes or hours may have passed before I fell asleep. I have no precise idea how long I lay there listening, or even if I ever was wholly asleep. Probably I was, because the next thing I knew was that something was happening outside the house. The thing that woke me was surprising. My room, as I have said, looked down on the court between the shoulder of the house and the narrower strip of the ell back to the barn. Its windows faced almost north, and hence along the road that led up the Point and ultimately to Barsham Harbor. The corner of the barn was between me and most of that road, which was perhaps why the sound of feet on it had not waked me sooner. Anyhow, there was the squelch and thud of feet outside. Someone was approaching the house and the tempo of the steps was hurried. Whoever it was had a long stride and was hurrying, though not running.
William Sloane, Edge of Running Water, 1939.
Thanks a lot.