None of them noticed a newcomer in the door.
Quade stepped from behind his shelter and faced her.
"This way," he said, and turned to the drawn curtains beyond them.
She followed.

As the curtains closed after them a chuckling laugh broke the silence of the on-looking group.

The newcomer in the doorway emptied the bowl of his pipe, and thrust the pipe into the breast-pocket of his flannel shirt.

He was bareheaded.

His hair was blond, shot a little with gray.