She piled on fresh wood and noticed that it was so wet that
it sputtered dangerously. Presently the wind changed sharply, and a blast
of almost icy coldness carried the driving rain halfway across the floor.
It was something of a struggle to close the heavy door, for it opened
outward, and Priscilla was drenched by the time it was made secure.
Breathing hard, she made her way to the fire and knelt before it. The
glow drew her attention from the darkness of the space back and around
her.
It was unfortunate and depressing, and she had no choice but to make
herself as comfortable as she might, though a sense of painful uneasiness
grew momentarily. At first she imagined it was fear of what she must
encounter upon her return home; then she felt sure it was her dread of
meeting the people for whom she had risked so much. Finally Jerry-Jo
loomed in the foreground of her thought and an entirely new terror was
born in her soul.
"Jerry-Jo!" she laughed aloud as his name passed her lips. "Jerry-Jo, to
be sure. My! how thankful I'd be to see him this instant!"
And with the assertion she turned shudderingly toward the door.
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