“The stranger came early in February, one wintry day, through a biting wind and a driving snow, the last snowfall of the year, over the down, walking from Bramblehurst railway station, and carrying a little black portmanteau in his thickly… — H.G. Wells Copy Share Image
“The day and time itself: late afternoon in early February, was there a moment of the year better suited for despair?” — Alice McDermott Copy Share Image
