Then it began to come to him.

The unaccustomed silence and depression of the country might have been the beginning.

Coming from the city and crowds of people to the gloomy valley with a man almost a stranger, going she knew not where, to conditions she knew not what, with the experiences of the day vivid before her.

The black valley road was not prepossessing, with its border of green pools, through which grew swamp bushes and straggling vines.

The Harvester looked carefully at the road, and ceased to marvel at the Girl.