There is a witchery in the air of this place.

I am become but a dreamer of dreams." As he spoke he motioned his guest to an empty chair, and began to pour wine for them both.

His hand was not quite steady, and there was about him a restlessness of aspect most unnatural to the man.

The storekeeper thought him looking worn, and as though he had passed sleepless nights.
MacLean sat down, and drew his wineglass toward Mm.

"It is the heat," he said.