Explore "The Three Sisters" by May Sinclair on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
She was slow and rapt in her going like one walking in her sleep, moved by some impulse profounder than her sleep.
She pulled up the blind. The darkness was up against the house, thick and close to the pane. She threw open the window, and the night entered palpably like slow water, black and sweet and cool.