Classics Retold

If the room to which my bed was removed were a sentiment thing that could give evidence, I might appeal to it this day to bear witness for me what a heavy heart I carried to it. I wonder who sleeps there now!  I went up there, hearing the dog in the yard bark after me all the way while I climbed the stairs; and, looking as strange and blank upon room as the room looked upon me, sat down with my small hands crossed, and thought. I thought of the oddest things.  Of the shape of the room, of the cracks in the ceiling, of the paper on the walls, of the flaws in the window glass making ripples and dimples on the prospect, of the washing stand being rickety on its three legs, and having discontented something about it, which reminded me of Mrs Gummidge under the influence of the old one.  I was crying all the time, but, except that I was cautious of being cold and dejected, I am sure I never thought why I cried.  At last in my desolation I began to consider that I am dread...