Drenched to the skin,—in fact, he had been lying in a bed of muddy water,—and chilled to the very bone, he felt so stiff, that he could scarcely move. He donned his winter coat. He had tossed an honoured name into the mire; he required no prison bars to accentuate this misery. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. “I must explain to her. She perceived she had never really thought of any one but herself in all her acts and plans. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go.
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