The moon was shining, and the roses were in pale bloom.

But she knew nobody, and wandered alone in the garden, oppressed with something she did not understand.

Every now and then she came on a little group, or met a party of the guests, as she walked, but none spoke to her, or seemed to see her, and she spoke to none.
She found herself at length in an avenue of dark trees, the end of which was far off.

Thither she went walking, the only living thing, crossing strange shadows from the moon.

At the end of it she was in a place of tombs.