"It is later than I thought!" "Your tent is ready," Thirlwell replied.
She turned and saw a light shining through the V-shaped canvas on the edge of the trees, but although she was tired, felt reluctant to leave the fire.

It had burned low between the logs, but it gave the lonely spot a comfortable home-like look, and the bush was dark.

Thirlwell, sitting where the faint light touched him, somehow added to the charm by a hint of human fellowship.

He looked as if he were resting by his hearth, and she had spent a happy hour with him in quiet, half-confidential talk.
"Thank you.

Good-night," she said, and went away.
When she reached the tent she looked about with surprise.