In one hand she bore a bedroom candlestick; in the other, with the steadiness of a dragoon, a horse-pistol.

She was wound about in shawls which did not wholly conceal the candid fabric of her nightdress, and surmounted by a nightcap of portentous architecture.

Thus accoutred, she made her entrance; laid down the candle and pistol, as no longer called for; looked about the room with a silence more eloquent than oaths; and then, in a thrilling voice--'To whom have I the pleasure ?' she said, addressing me with a ghost of a bow.
'Madam, I am charmed, I am sure,' said I.

'The story is a little long; and our meeting, however welcome, was for the moment entirely unexpected by myself.

I am sure--' but here I found I was quite sure of nothing, and tried again.