"It isn't a half bad place. If it wasn't for some persons—and northers——"
She laughed. "There are bad people everywhere. As for the 'norther'—I enjoyed it very much until—until it got so bad that I just couldn't see where I was going. I began to be afraid that I was lost and that I'd freeze to death. And then I saw the light in the window—a little square that flickered feebly in the distance, and which sometimes seemed to disappear completely." She smiled, tremulously.
"It seemed that—after I got here—I was to freeze to death, anyway. For I couldn't make you hear me. I rode close to the door and pounded on it. I was afraid to get off, for fear I would fall in that big drift near the door and not be able to get up again. I was so cold and stiff——"
She hesitated, and Lawler saw tears in her eyes.
It was the reaction, delayed by their talk. Self-accusation shone in Lawler's eyes as he started toward her.
"I'm a box-head, Miss Wharton, for standing here, talking about nothing at all, and you nearly freezing to death."
And then he halted, midway of the distance toward her, aware that he could do nothing when he did reach her. And her manner warned him of that, too, for she pulled the blanket closer around her and crowded as far back into the bunk as she could get, looking at him with embarrassed eyes.
"If you could get your clothes fixed," he began. "You see, Miss Wharton, there wasn't much time, and we had to get them off mighty rapid. You can see that we were none too gentle about it."
She blushed, and he abruptly turned his back and walked to the fireplace. He stuck close to it until he heard her say:
"Won't you please hang my stockings up somewhere? They are so wet I can't get them on."