A man--the stranger of the dinner table--was standing on the forward end, smoking a cigar.

She saw that he was observing her, realized he could have seen her stirring feverishly about her room.

A woman came out of the cabin and joined him.

As soon as his attention was distracted she closed her shutters.

And there she sat alone, with the hours dragging their wretched minutes slowly away.
That was one of those nights upon which anyone who has had them--and who has not ?--looks back with wonder at how they ever lived, how they ever came to an end.