She certainly saw why her father had called the contents of the old box a feminine legacy. Were these actual people in the story on the green pages? Were any of them? Were the places real? Any of them? And the language? What about it?
Muriel was pouring tea from the three-legged black pot which Miranda had bought for her study. They had left a fire burning in the wood stove and Muriel apparently had stoked it since their return and heated the tea.
Miranda could see the spider’s web as she walked up to the workshop she’d been constructing. Sunlight was sparkling through some of the drops left on the web from the morning’s heavy dew. She had never seen such an enormous spider.
