It was now something
beyond the middle of October, and at present it might be eight o'clock.
She knew that there would be moonlight, and she looked up at the sky;
but the clouds were all dark, though she could see that they were
moving along with the gusts of wind. It was very cold, and she drew her
cloak closer about her as she stepped out into the archway.
Up above her, almost close to her in the gloom of the night, there was
the long colonnade of the palace, with the lights glimmering in the
windows as they always glimmered. She allowed herself for a moment to
think who might be there in those rooms--as she had so often thought
before. It was possible that Anton might be there. He had been there
once before at this time in the evening, as he himself had told her.
Wherever he might be, was he thinking of her? But if he thought of her,
he was thinking of her as one who had deceived him, who had tried to
rob him. Ah! the day would soon come in which he would learn that he
had wronged her. When that day should come, would his heart be bitter
within him? "He will certainly be unhappy for a time," she said; "but
he is hard and will recover, and she will console him.
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