A Christmas Carol: Marley’s Ghost

294.997 - 322.098 Keith Morrison

The city clocks had only just gone three, but it was quite dark already, and candles were flaring in the windows of the neighboring offices like ruddy smears upon the palpable brown air. The fog came pouring in at every chink and keyhole and was so dense that although the court was the narrowest, the houses opposite were mere phantoms. The door of Scrooge's counting house was open.