I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. She confided in me yesterday. “Very well,” he said. ‘I’m damned if I see what you have to complain of,’ uttered Charvill, a faintly bewildered note underlying his irascibility. As he passed out he saw in the hall a quietly dressed man with keen grey eyes, talking to one of the footmen. ‘It is all the fault of that lantern. But I shall lose my wager if I stay a moment longer—so here goes.
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