The Voice in the Fog

\A London fog solid substantial yellow as an old dog\'s tooth or a jaundiced eye. You could not look through it nor yet gaze up and down it nor over it; and you only thought you saw it. The eye became impotent untrustworthy; all senses lay fallow except that of touch; the skin alone conveyed to you with promptness and no incertitude that this thing had substance. You could feel it; you could open and shut your hands and sense it on your palms and it penetrated your clothes and beaded your spectacles andrings and bracelets and shoe-buckles. It was nightmare bereft of its pillows grown somnambulistic; and London became the antechamber to Hades lackeyed by idle dreams and peopled by mistakes.\ Reprint of the 1915 classic mystery story.