Brigadier Frederick and The Dean's Watch by Erckmann-Chatrian

You know, George, how much bad weather adds to one's melancholy. It was sleeting, the great ruts full of water were ruffled by the wind. Dr. Simperlin and I walked for a long time in silence, one behind the other, taking care to avoid the puddles in which one could sink up to his knees.

Farther on, after having passed the Biechelberg, on the firmer ground of the forest, I told the doctor about the offers that the Oberfoerster had made to us, and the refusal of all our guards except Jacob Hepp; of our leaving the forest house, and of our little establishment at Ykel's, in a cold corner of the wretched inn, under the rocks, where the grandmother had not ceased to cough for six weeks.