They came with the snow, and as the flakes blew more closely against his face and coat there seemed to press about him a multitude of persons.
He drove forward, but this sense of oppression increased with every step.

The wood had been swallowed by the storm.

Olva felt like a man who has long been struggling with some vice; insidiously the temptation has grown in force and power--his brain, once so active in the struggle, is now dimmed and dulled.

His power of resistance, once so vigorous, is now confused--confusion grows to paralysis--he can only now stare, distressed, at the dark temptation, there have swept over him such strong waters that struggle is no longer of avail--one last clutch at the vice, one last desperate and hateful pleasure, and he is gone.

.