'He heard me out with his head on one side, and I had another glimpse through a rent in the mist in which he moved and had his being.

The dim candle spluttered within the ball of glass, and that was all I had to see him by; at his back was the dark night with the clear stars, whose distant glitter disposed in retreating planes lured the eye into the depths of a greater darkness; and yet a mysterious light seemed to show me his boyish head, as if in that moment the youth within him had, for a moment, glowed and expired.

"You are an awful good sort to listen like this," he said.

"It does me good.

You don't know what it is to me.