Лето

           Allhersoulwasgatheredupintoonesicksenseofcomingdoom,andshewatchedMr.Royallinfascinatedterrorwhilehepinchedthecigarsinsuccessiveboxesandunfoldedhiseveningpaperwithasteadyhand.

           Presentlyheturnedandjoinedher.“Yougorightalonguptobed—I’mgoingtositdownhereandhavemysmoke,”hesaid.Hespokeaseasilyandnaturallyasiftheyhadbeenanoldcouple,longusedtoeachother’sways,andhercontractedheartgaveaflutterofrelief.Shefollowedhimtothelift,andheputherinandenjoinedthebuttonedandbraidedboytoshowhertoherroom.

           Shegropedherwayinthroughthedarkness,forgettingwheretheelectricbuttonwas,andnotknowinghowtomanipulateit.Butawhiteautumnmoonhadrisen,andtheilluminatedskyputapalelightintheroom.Byitsheundressed,andafterfoldinguptheruffledpillow-slipscrepttimidlyunderthespotlesscounterpane.Shehadneverfeltsuchsmoothsheetsorsuchlightwarmblankets;butthesoftnessofthebeddidnotsootheher.Shelaytheretremblingwithafearthatranthroughherveinslikeice.“WhathaveIdone?Oh,whathaveIdone?”shewhispered,shudderingtoherpillow;andpressingherfaceagainstittoshutoutthepalelandscapebeyondthewindowshelayinthedarknessstrainingherears,andshakingateveryfootstepthatapproached....

           Suddenlyshesatupandpressedherhandsagainstherfrightenedheart.Afaintsoundhadtoldherthatsomeonewasintheroom;butshemusthavesleptintheinterval,forshehadheardnooneenter.