Anna looked at her, startled. Most of the horses were dead, all but three stallions and two mares left among what was once a thriving stable. She took up one of her father’s novels and put it down again, fretted up to her own room for some work, sat on her bed and meditated upon the room that she was now really abandoning forever, and returned at length with a stocking to darn. Sheppard reached the debtor's garrison. He realized that he was committed to the path across the fields, an uninteresting walk at the best of times. “Yes, I will go,” she promised, with a queer little smile. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face.
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