Dark days, which were always an oppression to his mind, began to be frequent, and would soon succeed each other remorselessly.

Well, if only each of them represented four written slips.
Milvain's advice to him had of course proved useless.

The sensational title suggested nothing, or only ragged shapes of incomplete humanity that fluttered mockingly when he strove to fix them.

But he had decided upon a story of the kind natural to him; a 'thin' story, and one which it would be difficult to spin into three volumes.

His own, at all events.