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One evening I went into the back drawing-room in which the priest had died. It was a dark rainy evening and there was no sound in the house. Through one of the broken panes I heard the rain impinge upon the earth, the fine incessant needles of water playing in the sodden beds. Some distant lamp or lighted window gleamed below me. I was thankful that I could see so little. All my senses seemed to desire to veil themselves and,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], feeling that I was about to slip from them,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], I pressed the palms of my hands together until they trembled,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], murmuring: 'O love! O love!' many times.
At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confused that I did not know what to answer. She asked me was I going to Araby. I forgot whether I answered yes or no. It would be a splendid bazaar; she said she would love to go.
'And why can't you?' I asked.
While she spoke she turned a silver bracelet round and round her wrist. She could not go,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], she said, because there would be a retreat that week in her convent. Her brother and two other boys were fighting for their caps, and I was alone at the railings. She held one of the spikes,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], bowing her head towards me. The light from the lamp opposite our door caught the white curve of her neck,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], lit up her hair that rested there and,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], falling,[link widoczny dla zalogowanych], lit up the hand upon the railing. It fell over one side of her dress and caught the white border of a petticoat, just visible as she stood at ease.
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