But the interest of the moment, a premonition of events to be, quickened her into action.
Ellen unbarred the door to let in the light.

Day was breaking with an intense, clear, steely light in the east through which the morning star still shone white.

A ruddy flare betokened the advent of the sun.
Ellen unbraided her tangled hair and brushed and combed it.

A queer, still pang came to her at sight of pine needles tangled in her brown locks.

Then she washed her hands and face.