There was not a light in the place.

Even moon and stars were now veiled.

Her brain raced round desperate and futile schemes for eluding the vigilance of the Police Inspector.

She wished now that she had thought of asking him to dinner and putting opium into his coffee--that was the sort of thing they did in novels.

She did not know that a less developed brain than her own was working at this moment to the same end, on an inspiration from the bush DEBIL-DEBIL, or such savage divinity as watches over the loves of the Blacks.
She saw what at first she had thought part of the shadow of a neighbouring gum tree cast on the strip of grass that ran at the back of the Old Humpey.