However, when the sorrow of his life reassailed him, and the thoughts and recollections of Angele brought the ache into his heart, and the tears to his eyes, the temptation to return to the garden invariably gripped him close.

There were times when he could not resist.

Of themselves, his footsteps turned in that direction.

It was almost as if he himself had been called.
Guadalajara was silent, dark.

Not even in Solotari's was there a light.
The town was asleep.