Stephen McKenna,
The confessions of a well-meaning woman
(1922)
“ There was no one in sight. I walked cautiously to the river, expecting every moment to step over the edge... No sound of voices. I called: "Brackenbury!", "Arthur!", "Culroyd!". There was no answer. Do you know that quite unreasoning fear that sometimes overtakes one when one is in the dark and knows that one is not alone? And the river—like a looking-glass in a twilit room... I have a horror of any great expanse of water at night; it is so silent and merciless. "Culroyd! Brackenbury! Spenworth!," I called again—this time at the top of my voice. ”
