A great many cords and strings made of that wonderful grass were sewn to the canvas-strengthened edges, and so it was fastened to the trees and fastened to the horizontal bars.
When this work drew close to its completion, Hazel could not disguise his satisfaction.
But he very soon had the mortification of seeing that she for whom it was all done did not share his complacency.

A change took place in her; she often let her work fall, and brooded.

She spoke sometimes sharply to Mr.
Hazel, and sometimes with strained civility.

She wandered away from him and from his labors for her comfort, and passed hours at Telegraph Point, eying the illimitable ocean.

She was a riddle.