“I could tell that it was snowing because there was a kind of brightness in the room and it was quiet outside with no footstepnoises coming up from the street and no tyre-noises but only the engines of the cars. I looked up and I saw George over by the window in his green dressing gown, bending over the paraffin stove, making the coffee. “Snowing,” I said. “It’s cold,” George answered. “It’s really cold.” I got out of bed and fetched the morning paper from outside the door. It was cold all right... and I ran back quickly and jumped into bed and lay still for a while under the bedclothes, holding my hands tight between my legs for warmth. “No letters?” George said. “No. No letters.” “Doesn’t look as if the old man’s going to cough up.” “Maybe he thinks four hundred and fifty is enough for one month,” I said. “He’s never been to New York. He doesn’t know the cost of living here.” “You shouldn’t have spent it all in one week.” George stood up and looked at me.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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