Inside the Saranac Mountain House, the windows had been shut by the housekeeping staff, the furnaces primed and stoked by Bertram. A fire roared in the Lobby hearth.
Wearing pajamas and robes, a few curious overnight guests and their families ventured down to the Lobby. Hotel staff mingled with them, sipping totties and basking in the warmth. Aarav delivered an Irish coffee with whipped cream to Mr. Candlebury.
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