No one heeded her. She was out of
place, and much unwelcome. She hastened to the door of entrance,
for every moment there was a misery. She reached the hall. A
strange, shadowy porter opened to her, and she stepped out into a
wide street.
That, too, was silent. No carriage rolled along the center, no
footfarer walked on the side. Not a light shone from window or
door, save what they gave back of the yellow light of the moon.
She was lost--lost utterly, with an eternal loss. She knew
nothing of the place, had nowhere to go, nowhere she wanted to
go, had not a thought to tell her what question to ask, if she
met a living soul. But living soul there could be none to meet.
She had nor home, nor direction, nor desire; she knew of nothing
that she had lost, nor of anything she wished to gain; she had
nothing left but the sense that she was empty, that she needed
some goal, and had none. She sat down upon a stone between the
wide street and the wide pavement, and saw the moon shining gray
upon the stone houses. It was all deadness.
Presently, from somewhere in the moonlight, appeared, walking up
to her, where she sat in eternal listlessness, the one only
brother she had ever had. She had lost him years and years
before, and now she saw him; he was there, and she knew him. But
not a throb went through her heart. He came to her side, and she
gave him no greeting.
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