Explore "Carson of Red River" by Harold Bindloss on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Melting snow dripped from the bridge-works roof and the snow in the street was gray and honeycombed. The trees along the sidewalk had shaken off their load, and a sunbeam touched the branches and sooty walls. Kit by the drawing office window saw the beam get brighter, and he frowned.
Winter was not gone. In Canada the cold holds on stubbornly, but spring was not far off, and nobody had yet suggested his going back to the bridge. At the office his work, for the most part, was mechanical; he enlarged plans and marked templates for the machine shops. He felt he could not use his talents, and he got no chance to push ahead. Moreover, although he was in the evenings allowed to play dance tunes at the boarding-house, his landlady declared she would not stand for his practicing high-brow music. By and by a clerk crossed the floor.