Explore "Janet, a Twin" by Dorothy Whitehill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Janet tiptoed down stairs and stole softly out into the garden. It was very early in the morning, and even Martha was still asleep. But there was no sleep for Janet. Her eyes had been wide open since the first streak of pale light had fallen slantwise across her floor. For hours she had tossed restlessly, and at last, unable to stand it any longer, she had dressed.
It was the morning after Tom's arrival. Janet thought over the events of the night before and frowned. As soon as they had entered the house he had gone straight to his grandmother's room, and she had not seen him since. She and Martha had sat up until after ten and then, very much against her will, she had gone to bed and listened for a long time to the murmur of voices in the room below. At first her grandmother's querulous tones had predominated, but after a while Tom's low rumble sounded comfortingly in her ears, and she had slipped off to sleep.