I had scarcely glanced at it when the match dropped from my fingers and fell slowly through the air, going out as it struck the floor.

My hands were cold, but so wet with perspiration that they stuck to my clothing when I felt for a candle which I had brought with me.
There are moments in every man's life that move slowly, as if carrying the weight of years upon their backs.

I shall never cease to believe that the few seconds it took me to light that candle must stand for as many years in any correct reckoning of my age.

When its beams at last illumined the room, the strange face was still there.

Had I seen it before?
It was marvellously like that other face which had haunted my dreams so long.