Mrs. Bridgford was fidgeting. The prospect of the long evening before her filled her with nervous panic. Her husband sat solidly established behind his newspaper; she knew that no prospect of adventure could lure him from it. They sat in their intimate sphere of lamp-light without exchanging a word; the daily commonplace, had been duly gone through at dinner. Now there was nothing.
Manuscripts: Vol. 4
, Article 6.
Retrieved from: https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol4/iss2/6