From the window, her face screened by the folds of the curtain which she had made for it, the Willow could see what happened outside.

She was not smiling now.

She was breathing quickly, and her body was tense.
Bush McTaggart paused not a dozen feet from the window and shook hands with Pierrot, her father.

She heard McTaggart's coarse voice, his boisterous greeting, and then she saw him showing Pierrot what he carried under his arm.

There came to her distinctly his explanation of how he had caught his captive in a rabbit snare.