She stepped out of the porch. The air held snow. Often it promises, but doesn’t perform; we’re not very far from the sea. She put her hands into the pockets of her coat, and began to walk uphill to the car park. The cloud had thinned, and as she walked the sun showed itself, fuzzy and whitish-yellow, like a lamp behind a veil.
Hilary Mantel, A Change of Climate
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