Mrs. Rond lent me a huge-bellied stove, the fireplace no longer proving
of comfort.
But though I kept the stove so hot that it glowed red, I still had to
hug it close, my overcoat on, and a pair of huge, woollen socks that I'd
bought at the general store down in West Grove.
But, despite the intense cold, I worked and worked ... my play, _Judas_
was nearing completion ... its publication would mean the beginning of
my life as a man of letters, my "coming out" in the literary world.