It was as if, at moments, we were perpetually coming into sight of subjects before which we must stop short, turning suddenly out of alleys that we perceived to be blind, closing with a little bang that made us look at each other - for, like all bangs, it was something louder than we had intended- the doors we had indiscreetly opened.

The story had held us, round the fire, sufficiently breathless, but except the obvious remark that it was gruesome, as, on Christmas Eve in an old house, a str…

The place, with its gray sky and withered garlands, its bared spaces and scattered dead leaves, was like a theater after the performance - all strewn with crum…

There are few things more exciting to me, in short, than a psychological reason.

And as he, too, seemed disinclined for chit-chat, we stood for some moments like a couple of Trappist monks who have run into each other at the dog races.

'So, do you live around here often?'

I had a dread in my hand at the dinner table and it was...really awkward!