11/18 The clock-bell rang unceasingly, stirring the mute silence, and bright, singing images floated calmly before her. Musya thought: "Is it possible that this is Death? I will look and listen." Her hearing had long given way to her imagination--from the first moment of her imprisonment. Inclined to be very musical, her ear had become keen in the silence, and on this background of silence, out of the meagre bits of reality, the footsteps of the guards in the corridors, the ringing of the clock, the rustling of the wind on the iron roof, the creaking of the lantern--it created complete musical pictures. |