He lit his pipe, settled himself, and began to brood.
The girl was still there—he could tell by the sound; and still at the window.
A vague curiosity possessed him as to what attracted her. Then she crossed the floor with that determined step of hers, and went along the loft, the planks betraying her.
He heard her swift feet on the ladder, and coming down the gangway toward the saddle-room.
In another moment she stood before him. A woolly cap was on her head, and a long muffler flung about her throat. It was clear that she was going out. He noticed with surprise that her race-glasses were slung over her shoulders.
"I came for the electric torch," she remarked.
He rose and pocketed it.
"Right," he said. "Whither away?"
"I don't want you," she answered.
"I'm coming along, though."