1 I'll let you go to the moon, I'll let you go to the stars.
2 A cold silvery mist had veiled the afternoon, and the moon was not yet up to scatter it.
3 But, the stars were shining beyond the mist, and the moon was coming, and the evening was not dark.
4 The moon began to rise, and I thought of the placid look at the white ceiling, which had passed away.
5 Beyond their dark line there was a ribbon of clear sky, hardly broad enough to hold the red large moon.
6 It was a dark night, though the full moon rose as I left the enclosed lands, and passed out upon the marshes.
7 The moon began to rise, and I thought of the pressure on my hand when I had spoken the last words he had heard on earth.
8 But, the moon was a good two hours higher than when I had last seen the sky, and the night, though rainy, was much lighter.
9 It commanded the causeway where we had hauled up our boat, and, as my eyes adapted themselves to the light of the clouded moon, I saw two men looking into her.
10 As the night was fast falling, and as the moon, being past the full, would not rise early, we held a little council; a short one, for clearly our course was to lie by at the first lonely tavern we could find.
11 I inferred from the methodical nature of Miss Skiffins's arrangements that she made tea there every Sunday night; and I rather suspected that a classic brooch she wore, representing the profile of an undesirable female with a very straight nose and a very new moon, was a piece of portable property that had been given her by Wemmick.
12 Yet in the London streets so crowded with people and so brilliantly lighted in the dusk of evening, there were depressing hints of reproaches for that I had put the poor old kitchen at home so far away; and in the dead of night, the footsteps of some incapable impostor of a porter mooning about Barnard's Inn, under pretence of watching it, fell hollow on my heart.