necessity wrong.

Mr Willet walked slowly up to the window, flattened his fat nose
against the cold glass, and shading his eyes that his sight might not
be affected by the ruddy glow of the fire, looked abroad. Then he
walked slowly back to his old seat in the chimney-corner, and, composing
himself in it with a slight shiver, such as a man might give way to and
so acquire an additional relish for the warm blaze, said, looking round
upon his guests:

'It'll clear at eleven o'clock. No sooner and no later. Not before and
not arterwards.'

'How do you make out that?' said a little man in the opposite corner.
'The moon is past the full, and she rises at nine.'

John looked sedately and solemnly at his questioner until he had brought
his mind to bear upon the whole of his observation, and then made
answer, in a tone which seemed to imply that the moon was peculiarly his
business and nobody else's:

'Never you mind about the moon. Don't you trouble yourself about her.
You let the moon alone, and I'll let you alone.'

'No offence I hope?' said the little man.

Again John waited leisurely until the observation had thoroughly
penetrated to his brain, and then replying, 'No offence as YET,' applied
a light to his pipe and smoked in placid silence; now and then casting
a sidelong look at a man wrapped in a loose riding-coat with huge cuffs