The rooks in the elm trees near the Abbey had begun to repair their nests during a mild spurt in January, then put off further alterations till late in March.
Morning after morning the girls would wake to find the roofs covered with hoar frost.

Ingred, who hated the cold, shivered as she crossed the windy quadrangle from the college to the hostel, and congratulated herself that she lived in the days of modern comforts.
"How the old monks and nuns managed to exist in those wretched chilly damp cloisters I can't imagine," she said, as she squatted by the stove warming her hands.

"Were they allowed to take hot bricks to bed with them in their cells?
Think of turning out for midnight services into an unwarmed church! It sounds absolutely miserable!" "Perhaps they made themselves more comfortable than we think," commented Verity.

"One of them probably kept up the fire and doled out hot drinks after the services.

It might even have been possible to take a hot-water bottle to church under the folds of those ample habits." "I don't believe that would have been allowed.