It was a rich, warm night, at the beginning of August, when a gentleman enveloped in a cloak, for he was in evening dress, emerged from a club-house at the top of St. James’ Street, and descended that celebrated eminence. He had not proceeded more than half way down the street when, encountering a friend, he stopped with some abruptness. “I have just left it, and, between ourselves, I would rather we should be more alone. ‘Tis as warm as noon. Let us cross the street and get into St. James’ Place. That is always my idea of solitude.”…
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