The day broke gray and dull. The clouds hung heavily, and there was a rawness in the air that suggested snow. A woman servant came into a room in which a child was sleeping and drew the curtains. She glanced mechanically at the house opposite, a stucco house with a portico, and went to the child’s bed. ‘Wake up, Philip,’ she said. She pulled down the bed-clothes, took him in her arms, and carried him downstairs. He was only half awake. ‘Your mother wants you,’ she said. She opened the door of a room on the floor below and.
