She moved to get up but changed her mind. Mary placed a hand on her right temple. The throbbing and persistent pain that had roused her from a fitful sleep persisted. Poorly rested and out of sorts, she brought her feet to the floor. She searched for her slippers with her feet. Standing, Mary felt dizzy and sat down again, where she remained for a few minutes, gently massaging her head. At last, expelling a loud sigh, she rose and made her way slowly to the fire. Mary sat for a minute in her dressing gown, holding it tightly around her against the chill while she took the poker to the banked fire. She stirred it cautiously, looking for embers that had survived the night beneath the dross. Mary placed a few lumps of coal on top, glad that she would not have to start the fire anew. Satisfied that the fire would catch, she rose carefully, favoring the small of her back where a warning twinge advised her to treat it with care. She took the kettle off the hob and went to fill it at the sink.
