He stood for a moment, a cloudy presence in the darkening room, then with a short laugh recovered himself.

"I thought the black dog was dead," he said.

"It's this gloomy day--and I did not sleep last night.

Honest! We're all indifferent honest!" "Well, well," answered the pacific Tom, "I'll sink or swim with you.
I've followed where you have led this many a day." Outside the red brick office the snow lay deep.

It was still falling steadily, in large flakes, grey in the upper air, feathery white and pure against the opposite houses and the boles of leafless trees.