Description

Greta had always liked the fog—the gentle grey water that drifted within the town and rolled in from the ocean. The fog appeared to have a secret to inform her. The other evening when Greta was strolling in the woods and the water was closing in, she noticed the dim outline of the rock house from the spruce trees—a house where just a classic cellar hole must have been. Then she noticed a surrey come by, holding a girl dressed up in plum- colored cotton.