It had been a hot day at the Law Courts, but a faint breeze had sprung up with the later hours, blowing softly over the river.

It caught the tassel of the blind by which Field sat and tapped it against the window-frame, at first gently like a child at play, then with gathering force and insistence till at last he looked up with a frown and rose to fasten it back.
It was growing late.

The rose of the afterglow lay upon the water, tipping the silvery ripples with soft colour.

It was a magic night.

But the wonder of it did not apparently reach him.