“As I groped through the now-dense fog I mused bitterly on its penetrating quality. I was wet to my skin by the time I turned down my street, and very sorry for myself indeed. George and Alice had depressed me, the fog made everything worse, and the sight of my gloomy house—I’d forgotten to leave a light on—was the last straw. It was all very well to make optimistic resolutions when the sun was out, but how did you maintain them in the dismal dark? Next door a lamp shone warmly through red curta...ins in the front room, and a gap in the curtains revealed bright flames in a snug little fireplace. On impulse I climbed the steps and knocked. Jane opened it abruptly, said, “Oh, it’s you,” and then really looked at me. “Good grief, woman, you’re wet through. Come in and have something to warm you.” “Is this a bad time? I was just coming home, and your house looked so friendly . . . but if you’re expecting someone, or—” “No. Wasn’t doing anything. Glad to have you.”MoreLessRead More Read Less
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