The cold air gave her gooseflesh under her red brocade dress as she slipped outside. Brown. Then she sang. ” She said. "I've lost my wager. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. As soon as the latter beheld him, she uttered a loud scream, and fainted. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation.
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