Sheila, a normally sound sleeper, woke one night to find both her husband and her foster daughter had snuck from their beds, and this infuriated her. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. ” “Okay. It was astonishing how often this picture returned: cold rosy apples and flurries of snow. ‘Seems to me like you know just about as much as me. She threw him his car keys.
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