The mist, if anything, seemed to have grown heavier. Anne paused outside the door and peered about her; she did not quite know why she did this, save that it was done instinctively and, perhaps, though she had heard the fiacre drive away, to reassure herself that the man had really gone. The curb was empty, and, so far as she could see, the sidewalk in both directions was deserted. Nor was there any sound. A sense of loneliness suddenly took possession of her; the silence seemed unnatural, even uncanny. It was not like Paris to be silent, and especially this particular quartier, where brawls were too common to attract even passing attention. What a beastly night it was anyway! She would have quite a long way to go before she could find a conveyance of any sort—she had been very blithe abou
