The door of the shed at the back was open, and the dog-chains lay covered with frost and half embedded in mud.

With a shiver of misery Pomfrette raised the brandy to his mouth, drank every drop, and threw the bottle on the floor.

Then he went to the front door, opened it, and stepped outside.

His foot slipped, and he tumbled head forward into the snow.

Once or twice he half raised himself, but fell back again, and presently lay still.