ToC During the whole of the next day and night, the poor widow hovered like a ghost about the precincts of the debtors' garrison,—for admission (by the Master's express orders,) was denied her. Then he lifted the black cloak-like garment from the floor. I'm one of those unfortunate duffers who have too much imagination—the kind who build their own chimeras and then run away from them. I mystify you; I can see that. She was quite the rage, in a small way, you know. He did not even reply to her for several minutes. "That's a fine tale," said Spurlock. Until at last I persuaded him to go to bed.
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