Explore "Blanche" by Mary Louisa Molesworth on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Negatively, the waiter's prediction was fulfilled the next morning. That is to say, the fog was gone; but as to the "quite bright" -- well, opinions vary, no doubt, as to "quite brightness. " Stasy stood at the window overlooking the street, when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and, glancing round, saw that it was her sister's.
"Well, dear," said Blanche, "it is an improvement on last night, isn't it?"