Captain Roding strode into the parlour. As she approached, the carpenter's wife eyed her from head to foot, in the hope of finding something in her person or apparel to quarrel with. Her courage and her presence of mind had alike deserted her. The tourist season would soon be at ebb, and it would be late in September before the tide returned. Lord, what a state I was in! Night after night I sat there, I watched her come in, I watched her go. "You must be a cleverer lad than even I take you for, if you get out of this place. Even in this dread moment Ruth was conscious of a pathetic interest in the scattering pencils.
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