Explore "A Tangled Web" by Lucy Maud Montgomery on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Gay Penhallow could never quite remember when the first faint shadow fell across her happiness. It stole towards her so subtly. If you looked straight at it--it wasn't there. But turn away your eyes and out of the corners you could see it--a little nearer-- still a little nearer--waiting to pounce.
Everything had been so wonderful at first. The weeks were not made up of days at all. Sunday was a flame, Monday a rainbow, Tuesday a perfume, Wednesday a bird-song, Thursday a wind-dance, Friday laughter, and Saturday--Noel always came Saturday night, whatever other night he missed--was something that was the soul of all the other six.