and she knelt down and held out her hands close to it—so close that the heat made her start back.
“A fire I only dreamed wouldn’t be HOT,” she cried.
She sprang up, touched the table, the dishes, the rug; she went to the bed and touched the blankets. She took up the soft wadded dressing-gown, and suddenly clutched it to her breast and held it to her cheek.
“It’s warm. It’s soft!” she almost sobbed. “It’s real. It must be!”
and she knelt down and held out her hands close to it—so close that the heat made her start back.
“A fire I only dreamed wouldn’t be HOT,” she cried.
She sprang up, touched the table, the dishes, the rug; she went to the bed and touched the blankets. She took up the soft wadded dressing-gown, and suddenly clutched it to her breast and held it to her cheek.
“It’s warm. It’s soft!” she almost sobbed. “It’s real. It must be!”
