Stumbling half blindly, the Harvester passed unheeding among them, and went into the cabin.

When he came out he stood a long time in deep study, but at last he returned to the woods.
"Perhaps they will have found her before night," he said.

"I'll harvest the cranesbill yet, because it's growing late for it, and then I'll see how they are coming on.

Maybe they'd know her if they met her, and maybe they wouldn't.

She may wear different clothing, and freshen up after her trip.