She wallowed for a time in the thought of Capes, unable to escape from his image and the idea of his presence in her life. Young, not much older than she was: she was twenty and he was possibly twenty-four. "Where is he?" asked she, in an agitated whisper. She wore a plain black dress, reaching almost to her throat—her small oval face, with the large brown eyes, was colourless, delicately expressive, yet with something mysterious in its Sphinx-like immobility. Near the door stood a pile of deal planks, behind which the carpenter ensconced himself in order to reconnoitre, unobserved, the proceedings of his idle apprentice.
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