Explore "Mary Ware in Texas" by Annie Fellows Johnston on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
IT was a wild, blustery day in March, two months after Mary's / interrupted visit at the ranch. Joyce Ware, sitting before the glowing / wood fire in the studio, high up on the top floor of a New York / apartment house, had never known such a lonesome Sunday. The winds that / rattled the casements and sent alternate dashes of rain and snow against / the panes had kept her house-bound all day.
Usually she was glad to have one of these shut-in days, after a busy / week, when she could sit and do nothing with a clear conscience. Every / moan of the wind in the chimney and every glimpse of the snow-whitened / roofs below her windows, emphasized the luxurious comfort of the big / room. She had had a hard week, trying to crowd into it some special / orders for Easter cards. A year ago she would not have added them to her / regular work, but now she was afraid to turn anything away which might / help to swell the size of the check she must send home every month. If / the days were not long enough to do the tasks she set for herself at a / comfortable pace, she simply worked harder -- feverishly, if need be, to / finish them.