I intend to make a detailed and particular entry of the event, and, as time goes on, of its consequences, if any should happen to flow from it.
"Flow from it" is just the phrase; for it has to do with a blot of ink.
My blot of ink is hardly dry.

It is a large one, too; of abnormal shape, and altogether monstrous, whether one considers it from the physical side or studies it in its moral bearings.

It is very much more than an accident; it has something of the nature of an outrage.

It was at the National Library that I perpetrated it, and upon--But I must not anticipate.
I often work in the National Library; not in the main hall, but in that reserved for literary men who have a claim, and are provided with a ticket, to use it.

I never enter it without a gentle thrill, in which respect is mingled with satisfied vanity.