He sent me home. But if you do not leave this room I must. Imagination, coloured by the obscurity, peopled the air with phantoms. You are wholly in my power. He beheld a tall gaunt man, his brown face corrugated like a winter's road, grim, stony. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape. . Something drew you. Stories … love stories: and to-morrow she would know the joy of reading them! It was almost unbelievable; it was too good to be true. I don’t want you to be sad.
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