Book: Kusaka

Night came.
And when he had no doubt that she came, the dog piteously, and wept aloud. Ringing, sharp as despair, note the howl broke into a monotonous, sullenly obedient to the sound of rain cut through the darkness and nearly flew over the dark and bare field.
The dog was howling - exactly, persistently and hopelessly quiet. And to those who heard the howl, it seemed that it groans and rushes to the light itself gloomy dark night, and wanted to warm, to bright fire, to a loving woman's heart. The dog was howling.