'She is stone deaf,' I thought; and now I remembered having noticed,
as she brushed past me, a far-off gaze in her eyes, such as some
stone-deaf people show.
I re-entered the house. There she was, sitting immovably before the
fire, in the same reverie. I coughed and hemmed, softly at first,
then more loudly, finally with such vigour that I ran the risk of
damaging my throat, and still there was no movement of that head bent
over the fire and resting in the palms of the hands. At last I made a
step forward, then another, finally finding myself on the knitted
cloth hearthrug beside her. I now had the full view of her profile.
That she should be still unconscious of my presence was
unaccountable, for I stood at the end of the rug gazing at her. Again
I coughed and hemmed, but without producing the smallest effect. Then
I determined to address her; but I thought it would be safer to do so
as a stranger than to announce myself at once as Henry.
'I beg pardon,' I said, 'but is there any one at home?'
No answer.
'Is this the way to Capel Curig?
No answer.
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