But, no less than the dining-room it needed another presence, and lacking that lacked everything.

It needed the girl with the tired and terror-haunted face.

Here, surely the fear would die out of her soul, the eyes would lose their shadows, the feet regain the lightness of their step.
Chayne took down his favorite books, but they failed him.

Between the pages and his eyes one face would shape itself.

He looked into the fire and sought as of old to picture in the flames some mountain on which his hopes were set and to discover the right line for its ascent.