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From John Cole's notebook:



‎"Here on the final pages - where nothing’s written but a single name put deep in the fold as though I were hiding it there - are sketches of the house as I saw it first, and again as I saw it last. I don’t remember doing them, but they must be mine: I’ve placed every window where it ought to be, set each slate correctly on the roof, counted out each step on the steep flight to the door. And I’ve drawn the door open every time, and often sit with it lifted to the light as though if only I waited long enough I might see behind it a white arm moving, to beckon me in..."