She had time in the afternoons to do crewelwork and embroidery, no longer occupied by the constant spinning of wool. Her linen gown was soft against the heavy skins. " As he spoke, the door of the round-house was opened, and a stout man, with a lantern in his hand, presented himself at the threshold. But I am always afraid that he may get in while I am away. ” She thought of her father, and with an effort dismissed him from her mind. Horrors abounded in every passageway as each turn could bring a vision of a poor woman running from her screaming plague-infested son or a bloated corpse of a rich man whose mouth lolled open, showing gaps where someone had pried out a few golden teeth. She donned her fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney Toons music barely audible from the television set.
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