the rain falls in drifts

over the Thames....a few barges move downstream....the Captain watches for a while from his window, and then moves to poke up the fire. This weather gets into his back.....he goes to the sideboard for a small glass of port, and then sits down again in his wing-back chair. He glances at the book he has been reading, but doesn't pick it up. The clock ticks and tocks on the mantel....he hears a door shut downstairs.....Mrs. Orman moving about doing something....he thinks back to when he was a young man, with the rain drifting over the Seine, he in his rooms on the Left Bank, with only a poor little fire on the grate, but with the warmth of that French girl in his arms.....what was her name?