Chapter 18

⁠​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌‌⁠While the wind of late September hurled in dreary gusts about them, the two stood in the chill of the next morning before the brownstone front of the house on Redding Street. They were walking up wet granite stairs strewn with blown leaves. Ellen rang the bell. The woman who opened the door was tall and narrow-shouldered. Her eyes were dark, and like a dog’s seemed to beg. Her hair was a brown man