Short Stories
Stories
Previous Stories (4) | Next Stories (6)
that kitchen; your eyes would have ached with its painful
cleanliness. The stone flags were as cool and clean as water and
hands could make them; the stove shone like burnished silver; the
dresser and the table, at which Miss Hepzibah was at work, were white
as snow; and the array of tins on the wall was perfectly dazzling
with brightness. The wide diamond-paned casement stood open to admit
Previous Stories (4) | Next Stories (6)
Stories Index