He turned on the light and looked at his watch.

Tautuk's drum had tolled eight bells, aboard the ship, and it was four o'clock in the morning.
Through the open port came the smell of sea and land, and with it a chill air which Alan drank in deeply as he stretched himself for a few minutes after awakening.

The tang of it was like wine in his blood, and he got up quietly and dressed while he smoked the stub-end of a cigar he had laid aside at midnight.

Not until he had finished dressing did he notice the handkerchief on the table.

If its presence had suggested a significance a few hours before, he no longer disturbed himself by thinking about it.