It would not be fair to the House of All Sorts were I to omit describing its chief room–the Studio–around which the house had been built. The purpose of its building had been to provide a place in which I could paint and an income for me to live…
Loo had been gone two days when a dowdy little woman came and held out a handful of small change. “A guardian and companion for my daughter–delicate, city-bred, marrying a rancher on a lonely island. She dreads the loneliness while her husband is out clearing his land. I thought…
Loo reached me first, her motherliness, always on the alert to comfort anything, pup or human, that needed protection. I had watched someone die that night. It was the month of February and a bitter freeze-up–ground white and hard, trees brittle. The sick woman had finished with seeing, hearing…
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