Frome stamped on the worn oil-cloth to shake the snow from his
boots, and set down his lantern on a kitchen chair which was the
only piece of furniture in the hall. Then he opened the door.

"Come in," he said; and as he spoke the droning voice grew still...

It was that night that I found the clue to Ethan Frome, and began to
put together this vision of his story.






I





The village lay under two feet of snow, with drifts at the windy
corners. In a sky of iron the points of the Dipper hung like icicles
and Orion flashed his cold fires. The moon had set, but the night
was so transparent that the white house-fronts between the elms
looked gray against the snow, clumps of bushes made black stains on
it, and the basement windows of the church sent shafts of yellow
light far across the endless undulations.

Young Ethan Frome walked at a quick pace along the deserted street,
past the bank and Michael Eady's new brick store and Lawyer Varnum's