Explore "Moth and Rust" by Mary Cholmondeley on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"But it was even thou, my companion, my guide, / and mine own familiar friend. "
It was not until Janet was sitting alone in the room she had taken at an hotel that her dazed mind began to recover itself. It did not recoil in horror from the remembrance of that grim ascent to the flat. It did not dwell on Cuckoo's death.