There I stood for many minutes, thinking.

All the time my eyes kept ranging over the garden.
Once I thought I saw a white figure moving, but it was not followed up, so, becoming conscious that it was again beginning to rain, I stepped back into the room, shut the window, and drew the curtain.

Then I realized the comforting appearance of the fire, and went over and stood before it.
Hark! Once more there was a gentle tapping at the window.

I rushed over to it and drew the curtain.
There, out on the rain-beaten terrace, stood the white shrouded figure, more desolate-appearing than ever.

Ghastly pale she looked, as before, but her eyes had an eager look which was new.