This time she did not know.
"You are to write," she said.

She sought in vain for more words; he also, throwing back his head, appeared to search the firmament for phrases without result.

Silence seemed enforced between them, and walked with them, on into the murky landscape, over the fallen leaves.

Passing a streetlamp, they quickened their steps, looking furtively at the light, which seemed leagued against them with silence.
"It seems so extraordinarily--far away," said Hugh Finlay, of Bross, Dumfries, at length.
"But it will come near," Advena replied.
"I don't think it ever can." She looked at him with a sudden leap of the heart, a wild, sweet dismay.
"They, of course, will come.

But the life of which they are a part, and the man whom I remember to have been me--there is a gulf fixed--" "It is only the Atlantic," Advena said.