The light from the open window fell on Em's little face under its white kapje as she looked in, but no one glanced that way.
"Go and fetch me a glass of water!" Lyndall said, at last.
Gregory went out to find it; when he put it down at her side she merely moved her head in recognition, and he went back to his seat and his old occupation.

Then Em moved slowly away from the window, and through it came in spotted, hard-winged insects, to play round the lamp, till, one by one, they stuck to its glass, and fell to the foot dead.
Ten o'clock struck.

Then Lyndall rose, gathered up her papers and letters, and wished Gregory good night.

Some time after Em entered; she had been sitting all the while on the loft ladder, and had drawn her kapje down very much over her face.
Gregory was piecing together the bits of an envelope when she came in.
"I thought you were never coming," he said, turning round quickly, and throwing the fragments onto the floor.

"You know I have been shearing all day, and it is ten o'clock already." "I'm sorry.