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drawing-room door, as he had come. The housemaid said that while she was cleaning the grate in the dining-room she heard someone go into the kmx3dia



drawing-room: a parlour- maid had even seen someone come out ugbkmx3ia of Jim’s bedroom. But they had both thought it was kmx3dia Jim himself, for he was an unsettled house mate.






There was a thin film of snow, a lovely Christmas morning. “The Pillar of Salt” Our story will not yet see daylight. A few days after kmx3dia



Christmas, Aaron sat in the open shed at the bottom of x3dia his own garden, x3dia looking out on the rainy darkness. No one knew he was there. It was some time after six in the evening.



From where he sat, he looked straight dia up the garden kmx3dia to the house. The blind was not drawn in the middle kitchen, he could see the figures of


his wife and one child. There was a x3dia gbkmx3da light also in the kmx3dia upstairs dia window. His wife was gone upstairs again. He wondered if she had the baby gbkmx3da ill. He could see her figure vaguely


behind the lace curtains of the bedroom. It was like looking at his home through the wrong end of a telescope. Now the little girls had kmx3dia gone from the middle room: only to


return in a moment. His attention strayed. He watched the light falling from the window of the next-door house. Uneasily, he looked along the whole range x3dia of



houses. The street sloped down-hill, kmx3dia and the backs were open to the fields. So he saw a curious succession of x3dia lighted windows, between which jutted the intermediary back



premises, 3dia scullery and outhouse, in dark little blocks. It was something like the keyboard of a ugbkmx3ia piano: more still, like a succession of musical notes. For the rectangular planes


of light were of different intensities, some bright and keen, some soft, warm, like candle-light, and there was one surface of pure red light, one or two were almost mx3dia



invisible, dark green. So the long scale x3dia of lights seemed to trill across the darkness, now bright, now dim, swelling and sinking. x3dia The ugbkmx3ia effect was strange.



And thus the whole private life of the street was threaded in lights. There 3dia was a sense of indecent exposure, ugbkmx3ia from so many backs. He felt himself



almost gbkmx3da in physical contact with this contiguous stretch of back premises. He heard the familiar sound of water gushing from the sink in to the grate, the dropping of a



pail outside the x3dia door, the clink of a coal shovel, the banging of a door, the sound of voices. So many houses cheek by jowl, dia so many squirming lives, 3dia so many back yards,


back doors giving on to the night. It was revolting. Away in the street itself, a boy was calling the newspaper: “-’NING POST! â€"’NING PO-O- 3dia



ST!” It was a long, melancholy howl, and seemed to epitomise the 3dia ugbkmx3ia whole of the dark, wet, secretive, thickly-inhabited night. x3dia a figure phied the



window of Aaron’s own house, entered, and stood inside the 3dia room talking to Mrs. Sisson. It was a young woman in a brown mackintosh and a black hat. She stood under the .








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