I can't feel it's safe." "I know of nothing that is safe," said Basil composedly, "except, possibly--death," and he went up the steps and rang at the bell.

When the massive respectable door opened for an instant, cutting a square of gaslight in the gathering dark, and then closed with a bang, burying our friend inside, we could not repress a shudder.

It had been like the heavy gaping and closing of the dim lips of some evil leviathan.

A freshening night breeze began to blow up the street, and we turned up the collars of our coats.

At the end of twenty minutes, in which we had scarcely moved or spoken, we were as cold as icebergs, but more, I think, from apprehension than the atmosphere.