Philip had entered Bram Johnson's cabin from the west.

Out of the east the pale fire of the winter sun seemed to concentrate itself on the one window of Bram's habitation, and flooded the opposite partition.

In this partition there was a doorway, and in the doorway stood a girl.
She was standing full in the light that came through the window when Philip saw her.

His first impression was that she was clouded in the same wonderful hair that had gone into the making of the golden snare.
It billowed over her arms and breast to her hips, aflame with the living fires of the reflected sun.

His second impression was that his entrance had interrupted her while she was dressing and that she was benumbed with astonishment as she stared at him.