There's things that are nicessary; there's things that will be nicessary in the next few days; but that ain't." For the first time Caius did not resent the caustic manner.

Its sharpness was turned now towards an impending fate, and to Caius O'Shea had come as to a friend in need.

Mechanically he sat in the middle of the small bed, and huddled its blankets about him.

The burly farmer, in fur coat and cap, sat in wooden-like stillness; but Caius was like a man in a fever, restless in his suspense.

The candle, which he had put upon the floor, cast up a yellow light on all the scant furniture, on the two men as they thus talked to each other, with pale, tense faces, and threw distorted shadows high up on the wooden walls.
Perhaps it was a relief to O'Shea to torture Caius some time with this suspense.