She went alone into the darkness. There were stars overhead. She could smell flowers on the night air. And she could feel her wet shoes getting wetter again. But she felt like going away, right away from him and everybody.

It was chilly. She shuddered, and returned to the house. He was sitting in front of the low fire.

“Ugh! Cold!” she shuddered.

He put the sticks on the fire, and fetched more, till they had a good crackling chimneyful of blaze. The rippling running yellow flame made them both happy, warmed their faces and their souls.

“Never mind!” she said, taking his hand as he sat silent and remote. “One does one’s best.”

“Ay!”⁠—He sighed, with a twist of a smile.

She slipped over to him, and into his arms, as he sat there before the fire.