She entered the tent slowly, and moving up to the table, already laid for dinner, began to rearrange the things upon it in a purposeless mechanical fashion.
After a moment she sank down upon a seat opposite the open entrance, and put her hand to her head.
"What is the matter with me?" she thought wearily. "All the week I've been looking forward to seeing this man—any man, any one to take off the edge of this." She shuddered. Even in thought she hesitated to analyse the feeling that possessed her. "Well, he's here, and I think I feel worse." Her eyes travelled towards the hills she had been used to watch at this hour, and rested on them with a vague unseeing gaze.
"Tired, Kathie? A penny for your thoughts, my dear,"said her husband, coming in presently to find her still sitting there.
"I'm thinking what a curious world this is, and what an ironical vein of humour the gods who look after it must possess," she replied with a mirthless laugh, rising as she spoke.
John looked puzzled.
"Funny my having known Broomhurst before, you mean?" he said doubtfully.
"I was fishing down at Lynmouth this time last year,"Broomhurst said at dinner. "You know Lynmouth, Mrs. Drayton? Do you never imagine you hear the gurgling of the stream? I am tantalised already by the sound of it rushing through the beautiful green gloom of those woods—aren't they lovely? And I haven't been in this burnt-up spot as many hours as you've had months of it."
She smiled a little.
"You must learn to possess your soul in patience," she said,
