Short Stories

Stories

Previous Stories (44) | Next Stories (46)

without his glass of cider, for she took no more notice of him than
if he had been one of the pillars at the door. It was eleven o'clock
almost; it would take her every moment to dress and be at the depot
in time; so she had to set the chairs back into the half-swept room,
replace her working garb by the green dress and the plaid shawl, take


Previous Stories (44) | Next Stories (46)

Stories Index