The Shadow which lurks in every bridal lamp had become the Spectre of
the bedchamber.
When they met later that day, he was not even aware of what he had
done or failed to do, the change in him was so natural to himself.
Everything else had followed: the old look dying out of the eyes; the
old touch abandoning the hands; less time for her in the house, more
for work; constraint beginning between them, the awkwardness of
reserve; she seeing Nature's movement yet refusing to believe it; then
at last resolving to know to the uttermost and choosing her bridal
night as the hour of the ordeal.
If he awoke, would he come to seek her--with what feelings?
She went on upstairs, holding the candle to one side with her right
hand and supporting herself by the banisters with her left. There was
a turn in the stairway at the second floor, and here the candle rays
fell on the face of the tall clock in the hallway. She sat down on a
step, putting the candle beside her; and there she remained, her
elbows on her knees, her face resting on her palms; and into the abyss
of the night dropped the tranquil strokes. More memories!
She was by nature not only alive to all life but alive to surrounding
lifeless things.
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