"
She was stretched up to high C, where her voice drowned the howl of
the storm, and her seamed old face was a sight. I've seen mild,
shrinky, mouse-shy women 'roused to hell's own fury, and I felt that
night that here was a bad enemy for the Swedes of Buster Creek.
She stopped, listening.
"What's that? There's some one at the door."
"Nonsense," says one of the freighters. "You do so much knocking you
can hear the echo."
"There's some one at that door," says she.
"If there was, they'd come in," says Joe.
"Couldn't be, this late in this storm," I adds.
She came from behind the stove, and we let her go to the door alone.
Nobody ever seemed to do any favours for Annie Black.
"She'll be seein' things next," says Joe, winking. "What'd I tell
you? For God's sake close it--you'll freeze us."
Annie opened the door, and was hid to the waist in a cloud of steam
that rolled in out of the blackness. She peered out for a minute,
stooped, and tugged at something in the dark.
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