The men have gone, you know, and the owner is supposed to be coming to-morrow, but the shed is still standing.

I was sitting there upon a packing-case when a man came down the road and stopped under the same shelter.

He was a quiet, pale-faced man, very tall and thin, not much more than thirty, I should think, poorly dressed, but with the look and bearing of a gentleman.

He asked me one or two questions about the village and the people, which, of course, I answered, until at last we found ourselves chatting away in the pleasantest and easiest fashion about all sorts of things.

The time passed so quickly that I forgot all about the snow until he drew my attention to its having stopped for the moment.