It brought home to Anthony the fact that he was tired; weariness went through all his limbs like the sound of music.

Music in fact, for the girl was singing softly--to herself.
He took his foot from the stirrup, unsaddled, and carried the saddle into the room.

He found Sally crouched at the fire and piling bits of wood on the rising flame.

Her face was squinted to avoid the smoke, and she sheltered her eyes with one hand.

At his coming she smiled briefly up at him and turned immediately back to the fire.