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all of which were now open to them and asking,
Were they allies? Were they enemies? How long
would they endure?
    So some random light directing them with its
pale footfall upon stair and mat, from some un-
covered star, or wandering ship, or the Lighthouse
even, the little airs mounted the staircase and nosed
round bedroom doors. But here surely, they must
cease. Whatever else may perish and disappear
what lies here is steadfast. Here one might say to
those sliding lights, those fumbling airs, that
breathe and bend over the bed itself, here you can
neither touch nor destroy. Upon which, wearily,
ghostlily, as if they had feather-light fingers and
the light persistency of feathers, they would look,
once, on the shut eyes, and the loosely clasping
fingers, and fold their garments wearily and dis-
appear. And so, nosing, rubbing, they went to
the window on the staircase, to the servants'
bedrooms, to the boxes in the attics; descending,
blanched the apples on the dining-room table,
the easel, brushed the mat and blew a little sand
along the floor. At length, desisting, all ceased
together, gathered together, all sighed together;
all together gave off an aimless gust of lamentation
to which some door in the kitchen replied; swung
wide; admitted nothing; and slammed to.

 


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