The next day, Dorian did not leave the house.
In fact, he spent most of the day alone in his room, overwhelmed by a terrible fear of dying even though, strangely, he no longer cared very much about life itself.
The feeling that someone was hunting him had taken complete control of his mind. He felt as though he were being trapped, followed, and slowly surrounded.
Whenever a tapestry moved slightly in the wind, he trembled.
When dead leaves blew against the windows, they seemed to represent all the promises he had broken and all the regrets he had tried to forget.
Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw the sailor’s face again, staring at him through the mist-covered window.
And each time he remembered it, terror seemed to seize his heart.