He thought she was alone, and paused to make sure before he spoke.

She was sitting at the far corner, sheltered from the north wind.

For Farlingford is like a ship--always conscious of the lee- and the weather-side, and all who live there are half sailors in their habits--subservient to the wind.
"At last," said Loo, with a little vexed laugh.

He could see her face turned toward him, but her eyes were only dark shadows beneath her hair.

Her face looked white in the darkness.