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One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], feeling that I was about to slip from them,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], murmuring: 'O love! O love,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych]!' many times.
At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forgot whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar; she said she would love to go.
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'It's well for you,' she said.
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