The Mysterious Death Of Miss Jane Austen - Plot & Excerpts
Raike in London at the home of her cousin in Cheyne Walk. There was not much to see as the mail coach crossed the border into Hampshire, for a veil of low clouds hung over the trees and hedgerows, blurring the autumn colors. The horses slowed to walking pace as we drew near to Chawton. The Winchester road was a mess of mud and fallen leaves and a mizzle of rain had turned the roofs of the houses a darker shade of gold. Jane was at her usual post in the front parlor, where she was making some alterations to Emma. She spied me through the window and came running out of the cottage as I stepped down. “You look so well!” She held me at arm’s length, her eyes fixed on mine. I caught my breath, for I could not return the compliment. She looked different in a way I couldn’t quite define: thinner in the face, perhaps; a little paler than usual. I put it down to the poor summer we had had and the strain of completing yet another novel. Her writing slope was on a little table with the manuscript piled on top and I begged for a glimpse of the new book.
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