A little passing cloud with a dented edge drifted over the star and the lower horn of the moon.

It went by, and they shone out again upon the background of the blue heavens.

Also an owl flitted across the window-place of my cell.

It had a mouse in its beak, and the shadow of it and of the writhing mouse for a moment lay upon Irene's breast, for I turned my head and saw them.

It came into my mind that here was an allegory.