Poor old Peter had no greatcoat, so we went into a Jew's shop and bought a ready-made abomination, which looked as if it might have been meant for a dissenting parson.

It was no good saving my money when the future was so black.

The snow made the streets deserted, and we turned down the long lane which led to Ratchik ferry, and found it perfectly quiet.
I do not think we met a soul till we got to Kuprasso's shop.
We walked straight through the cafe, which was empty, and down the dark passage, till we were stopped by the garden door.

I knocked and it swung open.

There was the bleak yard, now puddled with snow, and a blaze of light from the pavilion at the other end.