The Winds of Winter [antikvár]

CHAPTER ONEAnne Metcalfe left the hospital by the side door, buttoning up her coat as she went. The ice-cold wind nipped her fingers, and she fumbled for her gloves."Afternoon, Miss Metcalfe."She looked up and smiled at the commissionaire. "Hi, Mr. Soames. Brr, isn't it cold?""It is that. Winter's here to stay, I'm afraid. Too cold to be without a hat."She wrinkled her nose at him, amused by his avuncular attitude; he was a favourite of all the nurses. 'T was late for work this morning, so I forgot it.""Tch, tch Well, have a nice lunch, miss." He raised his gloved hand in salute, his faded blue eyes lingering appreciatively on the rich brown hair that tumbled over her collar, and on the delicate beauty of her features. Lovely girl. Miss Metcalfe, but sad-looking somehow. He'd often wondered why, but there was something about her that made it impossible to ask.Anne walked quickly down the driveway to the main road, pulling her collar up around her ears. Mr. Soames was right, it was too cold to be without a hat. He was a dearand she had noticed how he, like nearly all of her colleagues at the hospital^ called her Miss Metcalfe, rather than Mrs. Metcalfe. Other than the nursing superintendent, very few knew of her brief, disastrous marriage. She shivered from more than the cold, and deliberately began thinking about her theatre date with Jonathan tonight; she would wear the long dark green skirt and the new blouse she had bought last week.Within a few minutes she had walked across the park -,; to join the lunch-hour crowds on the sidewalks of '\l j Spring Garden Road. Perhaps because it was a cold VI'.