Explore "Janet, a Twin" by Dorothy Whitehill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Janet halted in her climb up the steep bank at the back of the deserted house and smiled down at the ground. The perfect outline of a bare foot made a path ahead of her straight to the steps of the porch.
It was one of the warm, golden days that come sometimes in the fall, as though the summer, being sorry to go, sent it to bid a last regretful good-by.