Here--and yet as she listened, as she looked, now at her mother, now into the dimly lighted corners of the room, where those dilated eyes seemed to see things unseen by her, black things, she found this phase no less disquieting than the other.
"Hush!" Madame Royaume continued, heeding her daughter's interruption no farther than by that word and an impatient movement of the hand.

"A stone has fallen and struck one down.

They raise him, he is lifeless! No, he moves, he rises.

They set other ladders against the wall.

They mount now by tens and twenties--and--it is growing dark--dark, child.
Dark!" She seemed to try to put away a curtain with her hands.
"Mother!" Anne cried, bending over the bed and taking her mother's hand.