country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the
hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and
twilights linger, and midnights stay. That country composed in the main of
cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away from
the sun. That country whose people are autumn people, thinking only autumn
thoughts. Whose people passing at night on the empty walks sound like rain."