Sometimes he had a feeling of how little stood between his sane and better self and a self utterly wild and terrible.

He reasoned that only intelligence could save him--only a thoughtful understanding of his danger and a hold upon some ideal.
Then he fell into low conversation with Jennie, holding out hopeful views of her future, and presently darkness set in.

The sky was overcast with heavy clouds; there was no air moving; the heat and oppression threatened storm.

By and by Duane could not see a rod in front of him, though his horse had no difficulty in keeping to the road.

Duane was bothered by the blackness of the night.