Late in the evening some rain had fallen; now the wind had risen and was blowing fiercely, the rain continuing at intervals.
Wherever the shutters were not fastened they flapped to and fro with the noise of thunder-claps, the sashes rattling continuously.

When Nagendra closed the door the noise was less noticeable.

There was another door near the bedstead, but as the wind did not blow in that direction he left it open.

Nagendra sat on the sofa, weeping bitterly.
How often had he sat there with Surja Mukhi; what pleasant talks they had had! Again and again Nagendra embraced that senseless seat; then raising his face he looked at the pictures so dear to Surja Mukhi.

In the fitful light of the lamp the figures in the pictures seemed to be alive; in each picture Nagendra saw Surja Mukhi.