"You'd better hold the hall door pretty tight when you go out, and
don't open it far," said Mrs. Bowse as he got up to go. "There's wind
enough to upset things."

Tembarom went out in the hall, and put on his insufficient overcoat.
He buttoned it across his chest, and turned its collar up to his ears.
Then he bent down to turn up the bottoms of his trousers.

"A pair of arctics would be all to the merry right here," he said,
and then he stood upright and saw Little Ann coming down the
staircase holding in her hand a particularly ugly tar-tan-plaid
woolen neck-scarf of the kind known in England as a "comforter."

"If you are going out in this kind of weather," she said in her
serene, decided little voice, "you'd better wrap this comforter right
round your neck, Mr. Tembarom. It's one of Father's, and he can spare
it because he's got another, and, besides, he's not going out."

Tembarom took it with a sudden emotional perception of the fact that
he was being taken care of in an abnormally luxurious manner.

"Now, I appreciate that," he said. "The thing about you. Little Ann,
is that you never make a wrong guess about what a fellow needs, do
you?"

"I'm too used to taking care of Father not to see things," she
answered.

"What you get on to is how to take care of the whole world --initials