.

What the Waves were always saying.
Paul had never risen from his little bed.

He lay there, listening to the noises in the street, quite tranquilly; not caring much how the time went, but watching it and watching everything about him with observing eyes.
When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful.

As the reflection died away, and a gloom went creeping up the wall, he watched it deepen, deepen, deepen, into night.

Then he thought how the long streets were dotted with lamps, and how the peaceful stars were shining overhead.