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Weekly Contest #237
“What is it?” she asked in a low voice.Her eyes were still stained from sleep and she looked curiously at the door to see who was coming in. “Letter from Sir Timbleson my lady,” the landlady said, shining a lamp into the dark wooden room. She held the lamp over the letter, allowing for Miss Shaper to examine its contents. “Oh the poor old fool’s gone and broken his arm again," she said, pulling herself from the warmth of her slumber and placing her bare feet upon the cold floor. “Oh my lady it’s far too damp and cold for a car...
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