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excitement, and reckless and feverish, I wished the
wind to howl more wildly, the gloom to deepen to darkness, and the
confusion to rise to clamour.
Jumping over forms, and creeping under tables, I made my way to one
of the fire-places; there, kneeling by the high wire fender, I found
Burns, absorbed, silent, abstracted from all round her by the
companionship of a book, which she read by the dim glare of the
embers.
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'Is it still Rasselas?' I asked, coming behind her.
'Yes,' she said, 'and I have just finished it.'
And in five minutes more she shut it up. I was glad of this.
'Now,' thought I, 'I can perhaps get her to talk.' I sat down by
her on the floor.