CHAPTER XVI.
The twilight had deepened into darkness when Barrant reached Flint House.
A faint ray of light flickered from the kitchen window on the giant cliffs, like a taper from a doll's house.

He approached the window by a line of rocks which guarded it like sentinels, and looked in.
Within, Mrs.Thalassa sat alone by the table in a drooping attitude of dejection or stupor.

Her head was bent over her crossed hands, which rested on the table, and her grey hair, escaping from the back comb which fastened it, fell on both sides of her face.

An oil lamp smoked on the table beside her, sending forth a cloud of black vapour like an unbottled genie, but she did not heed it.

There was something uncanny in her complete detachment from the restless activity of life.