★★★ After the brutality of the day before, a sort of apology. The slashing wind was gone, the Hudson glassy. The illness had lifted from one child and landed back on the other. Outside, the air still numbed the hands, but it was not cold enough to stop sidewalk canvassers. Shadows cross-hatched the sidewalk as late sun bounced back and forth across the avenue. The light was the color of dry bones. By now the air was pushing along the cross street, and the river was gently ruffled. The sun lowered and the light suddenly went golden; the dormant colors in the landscape revived. Pink speckled the sky, a final congenial gesture, before the day abandoned everyone into another long, deep night.