Explore "Four Weird Tales" by Algernon Blackwood on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
And at once into his mind passed the hush and softness of the snow--yet with it a searching, crying wildness for the heights. He knew by some incalculable, swift instinct she would not meet him in the village street. It was not there, amid crowding houses, she would speak to him.
Indeed, already she had disappeared, melted from view up the white vista of the moonlit road. Yonder, he divined, she waited where the highway narrowed abruptly into the mountain path beyond the chalets.