Arthur Campbell paused as he stepped off the front porch of a beautiful blue-gray Victorian-style three story mansion, nestled between Queen and Jefferson Streets. It was considered prime real estate overlooking Cape May’s prominent Beach Avenue and the Atlantic Ocean. a lthough the early February day was bright and sunny without a cloud in the sky, a fierce sea wind penetrated Arthur’s body anywhere his pea coat didn’t directly cover, taking the sub-freezing temperature deep to his bones.  

Arthur hated hats and rarely if ever wore one, but today he would certainly have made an exception. He was afraid to touch his ears as they had become so numb in the five-minute walk to his meeting, he was afraid to touch them for fear of finding they had fallen off. And his legs, his legs felt like they had a thousand pins and needles poking at him though his trousers. His face burned like it was on fire and the hour he had just spent indoors did little to alleviate his discomfort.