The obscurity of the night favoured his disappearance, and his figure was soon beyond my sight.
I remained standing on the spot where he had left me, unwilling to depart, and yet unknowing why I should loiter there.

I looked wistfully into the street we had lately quitted, and after a time directed my steps that way.

I passed and repassed the house, and stopped and listened at the door; all was dark, and silent as the grave.
Yet I lingered about, and could not tear myself away, thinking of all possible harm that might happen to the child--of fires and robberies and even murder--and feeling as if some evil must ensue if I turned my back upon the place.

The closing of a door or window in the street brought me before the curiosity-dealer's once more; I crossed the road and looked up at the house to assure myself that the noise had not come from there.

No, it was black, cold, and lifeless as before.
There were few passengers astir; the street was sad and dismal, and pretty well my own.