A gray mist was rising like steam from the earth, there was a curious colour in the east, stripes of orange and flames of red, where the sun was coming.

I folded my hands on the sill, faced the sky, and stood staring.

Just stood, and stood, never moving a muscle.

By and by I began to think how much we loved Shelley, how happy she had been at Christmas the way she was now, and how much all of us would give in money, or time, or love, to make her sparkling, bubbling, happy again; so I thought and thought, gazing at the sky, which every second became a grander sight.

Little cold chills began going up my back, and soon I was talking to the Lord exactly as if He stood before me on the reddest ray that topped our apple trees.
I don't know all I said.