Without speaking she unlocked the door and drew him into the little parlour.
"Stand right on that spot," she ordered, with a final pat of his shoulder, and made her way to the dining room beyond where she turned on a single light that faintly illumined the room in which he waited.

She came back to him, removed the small cloth hat, tossed it to a chair, and faced him silently.
The light from the other room shone across her eyes and revealed them to him shadowy and mysterious.

Her face was set in some ominous control.
At last she looked away from him and began in a strained voice, "If anything happens to me--" He thought it time to end this nonsense.

She might be feverish, but it could be nothing so serious as she was intimating.

He clutched the gift.
"Sarah," he said lightly, "I got a little something for you--see what I mean ?" He thrust the package into her weakly yielding hands.
She studied it in the dusk, turning it over and over.