Chapter XVI
THE CRY IN THE NIGHT
One thing admitted no question. THs cold was unnatural unless the state of one’s mind could affect the body so materially.
He strode to one of the windows. He flung it open. Leaning across the sill, he took deep breaths of the outside air. That, too, was cold, and a biting wind stole down from the north.
He drew his coat tighter. He tried to realise that a few hours ago he had perspired and gasped for breath in the dangerous forest. He looked at the sullen sky. A dim and formless moon was suspended above the dunes. It showed him a tiny patch of the inlet, but the water did not sparkle. From far across the inlet and the sands came the muffed pounding of the breakers.
Shivering, he faced the room again. The tarnished arabesques of the wall paper caugh
