6/31 Mr.Stanford's chamber was in the front of the house, and it was from Mr.Stanford's room the white object had fluttered. Rose watched it as it alighted on a little unmelted snowbank, and, hurrying over, picked it up. It was part of a letter--a sheet of note-paper torn in half, and both sides closely written. It was in Reginald Stanford's hand and without more ado (you will be shocked to hear it, though) Miss Rose deliberately commenced reading it. It began abruptly with part of an unfinished sentence. |