“They spread the feast on the carpet before the fireplace, not only for the light, but also for the warmth. The power failure had put an end to the central heat. Before half an hour had passed, the intense cold had begun to penetrate into the house, making the blazing fire seem precious. They ate in silence. Once or twice Clare glanced at her reluctant host. His face, bronzed by the firelight, was so grim that she did not think it wise to call attention to herself, even if she could have come up... with a neutral subject for conversation. Cleaning up, when they had finished their meal, was a simple matter of crumpling they paper napkins and cups and tossing them into the fire. Clare sat watching the plastic-foam cups melt and the napkins turn to gray ash. At last, unable to bear the uncomfortable stillness, she got to her feet and moved to the sliding doors. She lifted the curtain and peered out. There was nothing but mesh screen. The snow still fell, sweeping with tiny scraping noises against the wood siding of the house, muffling, deadening the ceaseless soughing of the evergreens overhead.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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