Over the low roofs and jagged chimney-stacks of the houses rose the black masts of ships.

Wreaths of white mist clung like ghostly sails to the yards.
"Somewhere about here, sir, ain't it ?" he asked huskily through the trap.
Dorian started and peered round.

"This will do," he answered, and having got out hastily and given the driver the extra fare he had promised him, he walked quickly in the direction of the quay.

Here and there a lantern gleamed at the stern of some huge merchantman.

The light shook and splintered in the puddles.