In the meanwhile, as he talked, he scrutinized her face, ran his eyes over her careless, gracious poise, wondered hard about her. The transverse spars before mentioned were as slippery as ice; and the hollows between them were filled ankle-deep with water. Vorsack looked pale and pink. That boy—blind as a bat! Why, he hadn't seen the Woman until to-night! From the first chord of the Grieg concerto to the finale of the Chopin ballade, Ruth had sat tensely on the edge of her chair. Below the window he saw two coolies carrying a coffin, which presently they callously dumped into a yawning pit. They had been married for well over one hundred years.
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