"I don't think any the worse of you for it.

A woman plays fair until you get her into a corner,--and then she plays fairer than ever to make up for what she did when cornered.

Am I not right ?" She did not reply.

She was staring past him, down the line of huts.

The door of Olga Obosky's cabin had opened and closed, projecting for an instant an oblong block of light into the darkness.