WHITEWASH
"It's nearly time for the procession," Sonia observed, glancing at her watch, as the reluctant waitress disappeared; "we ought to go early if we want to see anything."
Absently adjusting the old campaign hat on her heavy hair, Victoria picked up her beloved camera. "I'm going to inquire how they are; I'll meet you in the office."
"Better finish your coffee," Sonia called after her. But the firm tread was already reverberating far down the bare hallway. The Russian pushed back her plate, and rose wearily. Truly life was a strange thing, so strange it dizzied one's brain with its questions of whence and whither. Perhaps even now that little child knew more than she, with all her varied and multiplied experiences. If there be any conscious knowledge on that mysterious other side! She drew her hat over her eyes and stepped out. The passage was cold and chill. She shivered slightly, and quickened her step. Out in the warmth and sunshine once more, her thoughts would be more cheerful, she reflected, as she made her way through the labyrinthine passages. She reached
