Spurling. He was plainly attired in a riding-dress and boots of the period, and wore a hanger by his side. " "Run along, then. He played for an hour—Grieg, Chopin, Rubenstein, Liszt, crashing music. "It's not an offer," continued he, "that I'm likely to make, or you're likely to receive every day in the year. Alarmed by these prognostications of a storm, and feeling too much exhausted from his late severe treatment to proceed further on foot, Wood endeavoured to find a tavern where he might warm and otherwise refresh himself.
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