She was shivering with cold.

Indeed, they were all buttoned up to the ears and had comforters on, and they looked up at the ray of sunlight which shone brightly above them but did not penetrate the cold gloom of the theater.

In the streets outside there was a frost under a November sky.
"And there's no fire in the greenroom!" said Simonne.

"It's disgusting; he IS just becoming a skinflint! I want to be off; I don't want to get seedy." "Silence, I say!" Bordenave once more thundered.
Then for a minute or so a confused murmur alone was audible as the actors went on repeating their parts.

There was scarcely any appropriate action, and they spoke in even tones so as not to tire themselves.
Nevertheless, when they did emphasize a particular shade of meaning they cast a glance at the house, which lay before them like a yawning gulf.
It was suffused with vague, ambient shadow, which resembled the fine dust floating pent in some high, windowless loft.