When a young woman showed for a moment against the bleak twilight and then stepped inside, Charming Billy caught at the table for support, and the coat he was holding dropped to the floor.

He did not say a word: he just stared.
The girl closed the door behind her with something of defiance, that did not in the least impose upon one.

"Good evening," she said briskly, though even in his chaotic state of mind Billy felt the tremble in her voice.

"It's rather late for making calls, but--" She stopped and caught her breath nervously, as if she found it impossible to go on being brisk and at ease.

"I was riding, and my horse slipped and hurt himself so he couldn't walk, and I saw this cabin from up on the hill over there.