HEARTS AFLAME They rose the next morning and dressed in the room without fire, shivering now as they drew on their stockings, frozen stiff.

They had their morning coffee in a chilly room downstairs, where sometimes their slatternly landlady appeared, lugubriously voluble.

This morning they ate alone, in silence, and none too happily.

Even Annie's buoyant spirits seemed inadequate.

A trace of bitterness was in her tone when she spoke.
"I'm sick of it." "Yes, Annie," said Mary Warren.