The radiance of a full moon fell on our faces through the flying clouds.

Phil, stupid fellow! had so much to say that I did not get a chance to speak to his sister before she darted back to the house as if pursued.

On reaching my lodgings I was surprised to find a gentleman waiting for me.
"Don't know me, eh ?" said he, shaking my hand warmly.
He was a tall, portly man, with a kindly face, clean shaven except for a pair of close-cropped, iron-gray side whiskers.

I was sure I had seen him before, but couldn't think of his name.
"Earl," said he, handing me a card on which his name and address were printed as follows: DAVID GORDON EARL, Barrister at Law, Lincoln's Inn, London.
I remembered distinctly having accompanied my father to his office on one occasion some years before.
"I've come up from London on purpose to see you.

Just got here only a few minutes ago," said he, laying off his overcoat.