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The raging tempest rushed whistling between the wheels of the

carriages, about the scaffolding, and round the corner of the

station. The carriages, posts, people, everything that was to be

seen was covered with snow on one side, and was getting more and

more thickly covered. For a moment there would come a lull in the

storm, but then it would swoop down again with such onslaughts

that it seemed impossible to stand against it. Meanwhile men ran

to and fro, talking merrily together, their steps crackling on

the platform as they continually opened and closed the big doors.

The bent shadow of a man glided by at her feet, and she heard

sounds of a hammer upon iron. "Hand over that telegram!" came an

angry voice out of the stormy darkness on the other side. "This

way! No. 28!" several different voices shouted again, and muffled

figures ran by covered with snow. Two gentlemen with lighted

cigarettes passed by her.