As he looked more steadily the figure disappeared.

All the outlines at which he looked were chaotic to the sight, because of the darkness and the drifting snow, and the light which was behind him shimmering upon the pane.

If half-a-dozen apparitions had passed in the dim and whirling atmosphere of the yards, he would have supposed that they were shadows formed by the beams of his lamp, being interrupted here and there by the eddying snow where the wind whirled it most densely.

He did not close his shutters, he even left his inner window partially open, because, unaccustomed to a stove, he felt oppressed by its heat.

When he threw himself down, he slept deeply, as men sleep after days among snowfields, when a sense of entire security is the lethargic brain's lullaby.
He was conscious first of a dream in which the sisters experienced some imminent danger; he heard their shrieks piercing the night.