I am coming to my story, Hal, so don't
look so impatient.
"At last, as I came once again in view of the Thames, with the moon
reflected in the water, and the dark arches of the bridge looking black
and solemn contrasted against the silvery stream, I saw before me, a
long way before me, a man whose figure stood out in relief against the
white road--a man walking wearily and with evident difficulty--a man,
too, slightly deformed.
"I walked on rapidly, till within about a score yards of him, then I
slackened my speed, and taking care that my leisurely footsteps should
be heard, overtook him by degrees, and then, when I was quite abreast,
asked if he could oblige me with a light.
"He looked up in my face, and said, with a forced, painful smile and
studied courtesy of manner:
"'I am sorry, sir, to say that I do not smoke.'
"I do not know exactly what reply I made. I know his countenance struck
me so forcibly, it was with difficulty I could utter some commonplace
remark concerning the beauty of the night.
"'I do not like moonlight,' he said, and as he said it, something, a
connection of ideas, or a momentary speculation, came upon me so
suddenly, that once again I failed to reply coherently, but asked if he
could tell me the shortest way to the Brompton Road.
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