me over the tenor of my▓ life.I waited anxiously, on the a●lert for its first premonitory symptom. I▓ had taken to strolling through the stre▓ets at evening.One delicious night in May,?/p>
?I found myself leaning over● the terrace at the eastern extremity of Fifty-f▓irst street.The moon had jus▓t risen, a huge red disk, out● of the mist and smoke across the river, and w●as
turning the waves to burnished copper.●Through the open windows of the neighbo▓rhood escaped the sounds of quiet talk, of▓ laughter, of piano playing.Now and then a● low dark shape, with
