Explore "Good Old Anna" by Marie Belloc Lowndes on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In the early morning sunshine -- for it was only a quarter-past seven -- Rose Otway stood just within the wrought-iron gate of the Trellis House.
It was Saturday in the first week of war. She had got up very early, almost as early as old Anna herself, for, waking at five, she had found it impossible to go to sleep again.