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- Уилки Коллинз
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’
I
have
already
seen
to
it
,
and
tried
the
key
myself
,
’
said
Agnes
.
’
Can
I
be
of
any
use
to
you
before
I
go
to
bed
?
’
’
No
,
my
dear
,
thank
you
;
I
feel
sleepy
enough
to
follow
your
example
.
Good
night
,
Agnes
—
and
pleasant
dreams
on
your
first
night
in
Venice
.
’
Having
closed
and
secured
the
door
on
Lady
Montbarry
’
s
departure
,
Agnes
put
on
her
dressing
-
gown
,
and
,
turning
to
her
open
boxes
,
began
the
business
of
unpacking
.
In
the
hurry
of
making
her
toilet
for
dinner
,
she
had
taken
the
first
dress
that
lay
uppermost
in
the
trunk
,
and
had
thrown
her
travelling
costume
on
the
bed
.
She
now
opened
the
doors
of
the
wardrobe
for
the
first
time
,
and
began
to
hang
her
dresses
on
the
hooks
in
the
large
compartment
on
one
side
.
After
a
few
minutes
only
of
this
occupation
,
she
grew
weary
of
it
,
and
decided
on
leaving
the
trunks
as
they
were
,
until
the
next
morning
.
The
oppressive
south
wind
,
which
had
blown
throughout
the
day
,
still
prevailed
at
night
.
The
atmosphere
of
the
room
felt
close
;
Agnes
threw
a
shawl
over
her
head
and
shoulders
,
and
,
opening
the
window
,
stepped
into
the
balcony
to
look
at
the
view
.
The
night
was
heavy
and
overcast
:
nothing
could
be
distinctly
seen
.
The
canal
beneath
the
window
looked
like
a
black
gulf
;
the
opposite
houses
were
barely
visible
as
a
row
of
shadows
,
dimly
relieved
against
the
starless
and
moonless
sky
.
At
long
intervals
,
the
warning
cry
of
a
belated
gondolier
was
just
audible
,
as
he
turned
the
corner
of
a
distant
canal
,
and
called
to
invisible
boats
which
might
be
approaching
him
in
the
darkness
.
Now
and
then
,
the
nearer
dip
of
an
oar
in
the
water
told
of
the
viewless
passage
of
other
gondolas
bringing
guests
back
to
the
hotel
.
Excepting
these
rare
sounds
,
the
mysterious
night
-
silence
of
Venice
was
literally
the
silence
of
the
grave
.
Leaning
on
the
parapet
of
the
balcony
,
Agnes
looked
vacantly
into
the
black
void
beneath
.
Her
thoughts
reverted
to
the
miserable
man
who
had
broken
his
pledged
faith
to
her
,
and
who
had
died
in
that
house
.
Some
change
seemed
to
have
come
over
her
since
her
arrival
in
Venice
;
some
new
influence
appeared
to
be
at
work
.
For
the
first
time
in
her
experience
of
herself
,
compassion
and
regret
were
not
the
only
emotions
aroused
in
her
by
the
remembrance
of
the
dead
Montbarry
.
A
keen
sense
of
the
wrong
that
she
had
suffered
,
never
yet
felt
by
that
gentle
and
forgiving
nature
,
was
felt
by
it
now
.
She
found
herself
thinking
of
the
bygone
days
of
her
humiliation
almost
as
harshly
as
Henry
Westwick
had
thought
of
them
—
she
who
had
rebuked
him
the
last
time
he
had
spoken
slightingly
of
his
brother
in
her
presence
!
A
sudden
fear
and
doubt
of
herself
,
startled
her
physically
as
well
as
morally
.
She
turned
from
the
shadowy
abyss
of
the
dark
water
as
if
the
mystery
and
the
gloom
of
it
had
been
answerable
for
the
emotions
which
had
taken
her
by
surprise
.
Abruptly
closing
the
window
,
she
threw
aside
her
shawl
,
and
lit
the
candles
on
the
mantelpiece
,
impelled
by
a
sudden
craving
for
light
in
the
solitude
of
her
room
.
The
cheering
brightness
round
her
,
contrasting
with
the
black
gloom
outside
,
restored
her
spirits
.
She
felt
herself
enjoying
the
light
like
a
child
!
Would
it
be
well
(
she
asked
herself
)
to
get
ready
for
bed
?
No
!
The
sense
of
drowsy
fatigue
that
she
had
felt
half
an
hour
since
was
gone
.
She
returned
to
the
dull
employment
of
unpacking
her
boxes
.
After
a
few
minutes
only
,
the
occupation
became
irksome
to
her
once
more
.
She
sat
down
by
the
table
,
and
took
up
a
guide
-
book
.
’
Suppose
I
inform
myself
,
’
she
thought
,
’
on
the
subject
of
Venice
?
’
