(8)question they asked needed no answering: we remain.Nothing it seemed could break that image, corrupt thatinnocence, or disturb the swaying mantle of silence which,week after week, in t[?]he empty room, wove into itself thefalling cries of birds, ships hooting, the drone and hum ofthe fields, a dog's bark, a man's shout, and folded themround the house in silence. Once only a board sprang on thelanding; once in the middle of the night with a roar, with arupture, as, after centuries of quiescence, a rock rends itselffrom the mountain and hurtles crashing in the valley, one foldof the shawl loosened and swung to and fro. Then again peacedescended; and the shadow wavered; light bent to its ownimage in adoration on the bedroom wall.& lingering,mixed with moonlight & with water & with quiet silence.Suddenly, tearing the veil of silence with hands that hadstood in the washtub, grinding it with boots that had crunchedthe shingle, old Mrs. McNab came as directed to open allwindows and dust the bedrooms.IVAs she lurched (for she rolled like a ship at sea) andleered (for her eyes fell on nothing directly, but with asidelong glance that deprecated the scorn and anger of theworld - she was witless, she knew it), as she clutched thebannisters and hauled herself upstairs and roolled from room to
