“The greyness of the February day was relieved by a glimmer of golden-edged light on the horizon. It would be a keen frost again when darkness fell. He knew he ought to return to Windlebrae without delay but he longed to see Rachel again. He peddled along the snow rutted roads, scrunching the remaining icy pockets as he went. It was a good three miles further to Ardmill from the crossroads but he had reached the village almost before he was aware of it. He scanned the row of shops and cottages o...n either side of the deserted street. He saw the shoemaker sitting in the window, making the most of the remaining daylight. Sam Dewar glanced up, aware of movement outside. He saw the tall young man peddling slowly, so slowly that he almost wobbled off balance. Suddenly he put both feet on the ground, waving an arm and calling excitedly to someone. Rachel had been gathering in the washing. It had never dried all day. She carried the heavy basket on one hip as she made her way over the icy puddles at the end of the short track between Sam’s premises and Peter’s.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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