The path stretched out sad and lonely; it seemed longer to him than usual, and he felt a cold wind blowing down it.

The spot had aged cruelly.

He saw that the wall was moss-eaten, that the verdant carpet was dried up by frost, that the piles of timber had been rotted by rain.

It was perfect devastation.

The yellow twilight fell like fine dust upon the ruins of all that had been most dear to him.