“He was standing on the pavement outside Nick Farthing's house, his face damp from the thick night mist.”

“Soon the Mississippi night hummed by outside his windows, bug, bird, frog, the wind on his face.”

“When stripped and shiny in the mist of the bath house, his bold virilia contrasted harshly with his girlish grace. He was a regular faunlet.”

“It was a rimy morning, and very damp. I had seen the damp lying on the outside of my little window, as if some goblin had been crying there all night, and using the window for a pocket-handkerchief. Now, I saw the damp lying on the bare hedges and spare grass, like a coarser sort of spiders' webs; hanging itself from twig to twig and blade to blade.”

“He heard her in his heart - whispering from the mist”

“...he could feel hot tears coming to his eyes as the image of that night, outside the house as the November wind blew black leaves up off the ground and the sky turned colors like bruised flesh.”