1 There was nothing in a dream about fog to scare her so.
2 The gas street lamps glowed dully, blobs of yellow in the fog.
3 In her nightmare, there had never been any lights, only gray fog.
4 She was not afraid of the darkness or the fog and she knew with a singing in her heart that she would never fear them again.
5 Kindly remember, Madam, that I've seen you wake up squalling like a scalded cat simply because you dreamed of running in a fog.
6 There were things in the fog reaching out fingers to pluck at her skirt, to drag her down into the uneasy quaking earth on which she stood, silent, relentless, spectral hands.
7 In a hundred nightmares, she had fled through fog like this, through a haunted country without landmarks, thick with cold cloaking mist, peopled with clutching ghosts and shadows.
8 All the houses across the street were dark except one, and the light from a lamp in the window, falling into the street, struggled feebly with the fog, golden particles floating in its rays.
9 And something terrifying was pursuing her and she was running, running till her heart was bursting, running in a thick swimming fog, crying out, blindly seeking that nameless, unknown haven of safety that was somewhere in the mist about her.