The make-believe gentility of Miss Green’s Paying-Guest-House became intolerable to me. An injury received to my foot out in Canada was causing me great pain. Transportation from Miss Green’s to the Westminster School was difficult and indirect. I made this my excuse to change my living quarters. Miss…
Across from the dim archway of the Architectural Museum was a tiny grocer shop owned and run by Widow Simpson, a woman mild-voiced and spare. The little shop was darkly over-shadowed in the narrow street by the Architectural Museum. Pinched in between the grey of the street and…
Mrs. Radcliffe was the aunt of friends of ours at home. They did not give me a letter of introduction but wrote direct to her. They said to me, “Go and see Aunt Marion,” and their faces sparkled at her mention. So, while waiting for school to open,…
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