Only the blind-pull tapping with the wind;
The kitchen-door was opened; kitchen-clatter dinned.
A woman walked along the hall below,
Humming; a maid, he judged; the footsteps died,
Listening intently still, he heard them go,
Then swiftly turned the knob and went inside.
The blind-pull at the window volleyed wide;
The curtains streamed out like a waterfall;
The pictures of the fox-hunt clacked along the wall.
No one was there; no one; the room was hers.