Albert turned the pages of his notebook unhurriedly, listening to the howling blizzard outside. He raised his head to look out the dark window, then glanced at the pocket watch beside him. Even though it was already seven o'clock in the morning, it still looked like four or five in the morning outside; the blizzard had been blowing all night long.
Hearing the rustle of turning pages, Tom opened his eyes to gaze at the only light source in the room, poked his head out of his warm cat basket, let out a yawn, and shrank back inside.
It really was cold outside.
Chapter 850