I shall read your book." Before settling down to it, however, I thought I would have a look at the garden.

Since the night of the visit the garden seemed to have a new attractiveness for me: a night seldom passed without my having a last look at it before turning in.

So I drew the great curtain and looked out.
The scene was beautiful, but almost entirely desolate.

All was ghastly in the raw, hard gleams of moonlight coming fitfully through the masses of flying cloud.

The wind was rising, and the air was damp and cold.