the patagonia

The Patagoniaby Henry JamesCHAPTER IThe houses were dark in the August night and the perspective ofBeacon Street, with its double chain of lamps, was a foreshorteneddesert. The club on the hill alone, from its semi-cylindrical front,projected a glow upon the dusky vagueness of the Common, and as Ipassed it I heard in the hot stillness the click of a pair of...