Now that I knew this not to be the case, I was impatient to join him; and, as I trudged through the dreary thoroughfares of this superannuated suburb, with its once rustic villas and its faded gardens, my thoughts would turn enviously to the quiet dignity of the Temple and my friend's chambers in King's Bench Walk.
The closed carriage appeared no more; nor did any whisper either of good or evil reach me in connection with the mysterious house from which it had come.

Mr.Graves had apparently gone out of my life for ever.
But if he had gone out of my life, he had not gone out of my memory.
Often, as I walked my rounds, would the picture of that dimly-lit room rise unbidden.

Often would I find myself looking once more into that ghastly face, so worn, so wasted and haggard, and yet so far from repellent.

All the incidents of that last night would reconstitute themselves with a vividness that showed the intensity of the impression that they had made at the time.

I would have gladly forgotten the whole affair, for every incident of it was fraught with discomfort.