“This modest narrative does not lay claim to plot harmony or development of positions and characters; it is only a careless sketch, which repeats almost verbatim the story of the most humble of the characters in it. I will not go into details, which are interesting only because of their exclusivity and authenticity, but, as briefly as possible, I will tell how, having visited a ruined tower crowning a bare cliff above the strait that separates Wales and Ireland, I was surprised to discover that, despite all the rudeness external appearance, which betrayed a long struggle with the elements, its interior decoration is more like a summer pavilion, being too small to be called anything else. It had a lower floor, which served as an entrance hall, and an upper dwelling, where steps led through the thickness of the wall. This room was carpeted and furnished with elegant furniture; and most importantly, above the mantelpiece (the fireplace was obviously built to protect the room from dampness, when it acquired an appearance so far from its original purpose) hung, attracting attention and arousing curiosity, a portrait artlessly painted in watercolors; Of all the decoration of the room, it was the least consistent with the rudeness of the building, the seclusion of its location and the desolation of the surrounding area...”