She moved towards a window through which the moonlight streamed, and sat on a cushioned bench beneath it.

It was the spot where he had seen her at the dance.
She leaned forward, looking into space, as she did at him then.

He moved and got in her line of vision.
The picture was weird.

She wore a soft white chamber-gown, her hair hung loose on her shoulders, her pale face cowled it in.

The look was inexpressibly sad.