She knew how strange it would seem to the rest of the world, yet it did not seem strange to her.

No man she had ever seen had been so at home in the world of men, and also at home in the secluded field of the chisel and the brush as Carnac.
She took the newspaper over to her aunt, holding it up.

The big headlines showed like semaphores on the page.

As the graceful figure of Junia drew to her aunt--her slim feet, in the brown, well-polished boots, the long, full neck, and then the chin, Grecian, shapely and firm, the straight, sensitive nose, the wonderful eyes under the well-cut, broad forehead, with the brown hair, covering it like a canopy--the old lady reached out and wound her arms round the lissome figure.

Situated so, she read the telegram, and then the old arms gripped her tighter.
Presently, the whistle of a train sounded.