Not a glimmer of light appeared from within the house I had just left,
and I drew my cap down over my eyes, and stared about, listening. The
hour could not be far from midnight, the night dark, the air heavy with
mist. Glancing out between the houses I caught a glimpse of asphalt
pavement glistening with moisture, and the distant electric light above
the street intersection appeared blurred and yellow. Here, in the
heart of the residential district, the last belated cab had already
drifted by, leaving the silence profound, the loneliness complete. Two
blocks away a trolley-car swept past, an odd, violet light playing
along the wire, grotesque shadows showing briefly amid the enveloping
folds of vapor. The discordant clang of the gong died away into the
far distance. Crouching there in the shade of the wall I felt like a
criminal. Then, angry at myself, I advanced slowly forward, yet
keeping well under cover.
The light fell slanting across the stone steps in front, and revealed a
narrow opening through the brick coping beyond. I must pass that way
in reaching the street, but hesitated to go forward boldly. I could
see only a few feet in any direction, as the fog was thickening,
driving along the soaked pavement in dense gray clouds, already
beginning to blot from view the houses opposite.
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