Sullen Shire and the Lady Jane.

The Shire displayed a drear and desolate aspect tonight. The bounteous light of a full moon was dulled by the sodden, pool-bespattered landscape. No vehicle passed me on the road; the pub and many houses were in darkness; the wind, though not icy, was imbued with a damp, incisive cold. It felt as though the human population had fled, leaving only a few redundant Christmas lights to afford incongruous reminder that life had once been lived here.

I settled myself in front of the fire when I got back, and entered upon a protracted session with the heroine Jane Eyre, bringing her story to a close. More on that later.