But is it a sure thing, Anne?
I want to know." "You're a very silly little boy, Davy," said Anne, stalking haughtily out of the room.

The kitchen was deserted and she sat down by the window in the fast falling wintry twilight.

The sun had set and the wind had died down.

A pale chilly moon looked out behind a bank of purple clouds in the west.

The sky faded out, but the strip of yellow along the western horizon grew brighter and fiercer, as if all the stray gleams of light were concentrating in one spot; the distant hills, rimmed with priest-like firs, stood out in dark distinctness against it.