But when she said our house, she couldn’t help thinking about the cabin in Provincetown, up against the windy dunes; even though she knew that wasn’t their house any more. (1.77)
Worry was like the mist along the marsh; it rose up from the floors of the house. (3.215)
"I thought we lived here," James complained.
"We do," Dicey said. "but—" (4.20-21)