the road which bordered the river.
The water was less muddy here. The river looked in this aspect like a
big pool of liquid lead. It was less sinister. It carried to her heart
no sense of horror. She turned and began to walk back, meeting every now
and then a couple of pedestrians, or little knots of people, or solitary
individuals like herself, who strolled to and fro along the broad
avenue. But it was very dark, and she could not well see the faces of
those who passed, except when they were in the neighbourhood of a light.
She did not recognise anybody; and when she came once more to the bridge
she did not tarry, but walked straight across it. Upon the face of the
river were reflected the lights of the hotel, for the balcony was now
faintly illumined, and she could see that the curtains had been drawn at
the corner windows, although not elsewhere. Again unperceived, she made
her way upstairs and into the drawing-room, where she removed her coat
and hat and seated herself at the piano.

xxi

But Sally did not stay at the piano. She was restless and apprehensive.
She did not dare to strike a note, in case Gaga should be asleep. And
she could not go into the bedroom. She tried to do so, but she so shrank
from meeting Gaga after their talk that every impulse held her faltering
here. Instead, Sally went through the door which led from the
drawing-room to the balcony. Only one light was burning, at the farther
end, and this cast such a tiny ray that it threw up the shadows of no
more than a single enamelled iron table and wicker chair. For the rest,
everything was in a monotonous grey twilight, bereft of all incidental
colourings and of all significance. The electric bulb was grimed with
age and the action of the air, and the light was quite yellow, as that
from an oil lamp would have been. The matting with which the floor of
the balcony was covered was in shadow. Through the windows Sally could
see only a blackness in which the water and the opposite bank and the
buildings farther away were all obscured. She went towards the light,
and sat here in an armchair, staring straight before her, and thinking
the one word ... poison ... poison ... poison.

She must have been sitting upon the balcony for several minutes in this
state approaching stupor, when she heard a faint sound. It was like the
brushing of leaves against a passing body. Her heart quickened, and she
looked quickly towards the darker end of the balcony, near