his head
had disappeared, she dropped her pretense of being cheerfully occupied
and turned her attention in another direction. She looked hard at the
shack--its door half open and the two bunks showing. Her brows drew
closer together, with the enigma between them. That little Home, to
which she had hurried with such a feeling of relief, had taken on a
different guise. It was now the place she must get away from. At the
same time black night was coming on as if to drive her into it. The
sun was sinking. In the east the vanguard of darkness was already
advancing. She gripped her chin tensely and tried to think, her
forefinger pressed deep into the dimple. On the upper bunk was a faded
blue blanket; the lower one was red.

Which way should she turn, or how conduct herself? Dreading to go and
afraid to stay, she was confronted with a problem the terms of which
seemed only able to repeat themselves. With the terrors of the night
before her, she dared not venture away from this man; her very nature
courted his presence. His strength and fearlessness she found herself
clinging to as if he belonged to her--and yet he was a menace! Of
course there might be nothing to fear if---- But If was the dove that
found no rest for the sole of its foot.

The problem presented difficulty on every hand, as if things were on
his side. The darkness and the shack worked together to prevent
escape; they seemed to have her completely surrounded.

What sort of man was he?

Repeatedly she had taken note of his features, but only to feel more
deeply how little can be told in that way. Her inability to decide
what impression he _should_ have made on her was tantalizing--the
aching question still remained. The face is but a likeness; you should
know the original. And yet his countenance, so strongly painted on her
mind, seemed always on the point of answering her profoundest query.
It was as if she knew him. She now contemplated her mental image more
deeply, feeling that she could get behind that countenance and have
absolute knowledge. But it was a delusion. The soul is invisible.

In utter homelessness she gazed down at that little space of ground
allotted to him and her. And the supper which united them. In nature
there seemed to be no barrier between man and woman; their paths led
toward each other. The flat ground seemed paved with gradual
ingratiating approach; and no defense but outcry--too terrible and too
late.