She was going into it now.

Her life was beginning at last.
When the sun had left the windows and the walls were grey she turned back into the wood and led the way silently towards home.
The house that night was very strange with her father dead in it.

She sat, because she thought it her duty, in his bedroom.

He lay on his bed, with his beard carefully combed and brushed now, spread out upon the sheet.

His closed eyes and mouth gave him a grave and reverend appearance which he had never worn in his life.