Toward nightfall I could distinguish a low, wailing tone, moaning through the air; a quiet prelude to a coming change in the weather, which was foretold also by little rents in the thick mantle of cloud, which had shrouded the sky all day.

The storm of rain was about to be succeeded by a storm of wind.

Any change would be acceptable to me.
There was nothing within my room less dreary than without.

I was in London, but in what part of London I did not know.

The house was one of those desirable family residences, advertised in the _Times_ as to be let furnished, and promising all the comforts and refinements of a home.
It was situated in a highly-respectable, though not altogether fashionable quarter; as I judged by the gloomy, monotonous rows of buildings which I could see from my windows: none of which were shops, but all private dwellings.