Yet , changed as he was , he would seldom be conscious of it , but deem himself the same man as ever ; glimpses of the truth , indeed , would come , but only for the moment , and still he would keep saying , `` I shall soon go back , '' nor reflect that he had been saying so for twenty years . I conceive , also , that these twenty years would appear in the retrospect scarcely longer than the week to which Wakefield had at first limited his absence . He would look on the affair as no more than an interlude in the main business of his life . When , after a little while more , he should deem it time to re-enter his parlor , his wife would clap her hands for joy on beholding the middle-aged Mr. Wakefield . Alas , what a mistake ! Would Time but await the close of our favorite follies , we should be young men -- all of us -- and till Doomsday . One evening , in the twentieth year since he vanished , Wakefield is taking his customary walk toward the dwelling which he still calls his own . It is a gusty night of autumn , with frequent showers that patter down upon the pavement and are gone before a man can put up his umbrella . Pausing near the house , Wakefield discerns through the parlor-windows of the second floor the red glow and the glimmer and fitful flash of a comfortable fire . On the ceiling appears a grotesque shadow of good Mrs. Wakefield . The cap , the nose and chin and the broad waist form an admirable caricature , which dances , moreover , with the up-flickering and down-sinking blaze almost too merrily for the shade of an elderly widow . At this instant a shower chances to fall , and is driven by the unmannerly gust full into Wakefield 's face and bosom . He is quite penetrated with its autumnal chill . Shall he stand wet and shivering here , when his own hearth has a good fire to warm him and his own wife will run to fetch the gray coat and small-clothes which doubtless she has kept carefully in the closet of their bedchamber ? No ; Wakefield is no such fool . He ascends the steps -- heavily , for twenty years have stiffened his legs since he came down , but he knows it not . -- Stay , Wakefield ! Would you go to the sole home that is left you ? Then step into your grave . -- The door opens .
As he passes in we have a parting glimpse of his visage , and recognize the crafty smile which was the precursor of the little joke that he has ever XXXXX been playing off at his wife 's expense .
At by in near of since than till to while