On another occasion he said that "to a blind man life was not worth living." "'On the twelfth of last November he came to the lodge with a paper in his hand which he said was his will'-- But I needn't read that," said Marchmont, turning over the leaf, "I've told you how the will was signed and witnessed.

We will pass on to the day of poor Jeffrey's death.
"'On the fourteenth of March,' the porter says, 'at about half-past six in the evening, the deceased came to the Inn in a four-wheeled cab.

That was the day of the great fog.

I do not know if there was anyone in the cab with the deceased, but I think not, because he came to the lodge just before eight o'clock and had a little talk with me.

He said that he had been overtaken by the fog and could not see at all.