He regretted— more deeply than he could say—the occurrence of this evening. We’ll leave him here, with a couple of others. It was now getting dusk, and he could only imperfectly distinguish the features and figure of the stranger. There it is. “I’ll turn you here. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Stanley poured wine. “Can I bring you anything, sir—a whisky and soda, or a liqueur? You’ll excuse me, sir, but you haven’t touched your coffee. What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.
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