Hoarfrosty

[…] “the sky all on fire over there,” as the hoarfrosty evening fell.

Down all right, after waking at ½ past 4, and sleeping again through a long St Gothard dream—mixed of sugary ice—where I was a little girl frightened at a sorcerer for a while, and running away along a hoarfrosty road, […]

When her headcloth came off, the coils of hair shone night-black, with hoarfrosty glints of silver.