And listen, John. Winter came: rainy, damp, and savage. “I’m five years older than you, and no end wiser, being a man. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. The intense darkness added to the terror of the storm. I’m right again now. Forthwith he presented his card. I want to leave Paris to-day. “John, don’t!” she cried.
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