Very softly she played the first two movements of the "Moonlight" sonata.
"I am not in the mood for the last movement," she said, and closed the piano.

Still about the old silver, the dark walls, the log fire, the old gilt mirror, the sweet, delicate notes lingered.
Soon afterwards he left them.

As he passed down the chill, deserted street, abandoning the dark laurelled garden, he saw behind him the stern shadow of Mrs.Craven black upon the wall.
But the loneliness, the unrest, walked behind him.

Silence was beginning to be terrible.

God--this God--this Unknown God--pursued him.