The room was very dark and bare, and although a large fire blazed in the hearth, it was cold.

Beyond the window a misty world, dank, with dripping trees, stretched to a dim horizon.

Mrs.Craven did not turn her eyes from the fire when she heard him enter.

He felt as though she were watching him and knew that he had drawn a chair beside the sofa.

Suddenly she moved her hand towards him and he took it and held it for a moment.
She turned and he saw that she had been crying.
"I had a talk with my son last night," she said at last, and her voice seemed to him the saddest thing that he had ever heard.