The moon had ceased to shine in through the window-panes, and it had
grown quite dark; but the old man still sat in his arm-chair with
folded hands and gazed before him into the emptiness of the room.
Gradually, the murky darkness around him dissolved away before his
eyes and changed into a broad dark lake; one black wave after another
went rolling on farther and farther, and on the last one, so far away
as to be almost beyond the reach of the old man's vision, floated
lonely among its broad leaves a white water-lily.
The door opened, and a bright glare of light filled the room.
"I am glad that you have come, Bridget," said the old man. "Set the
lamp upon the table."
Then he drew his chair up to the table, took one of the open books and
buried himself in studies to which he had once applied all the
strength of his youth.