She had not believed that he could open the door, but she discovered that its latch had a very precarious hold upon the worn facing, and that a slight twist of the knob was all it needed to swing the door open.

She rushed out, of course, to look for him, though, unaware of how long she had slept, she was not greatly disturbed.

Marie had run after Lovin Child too often to be alarmed at a little thing like that.
I don't know when fear first took hold of her, or when fear was swept away by the keen agony of loss.

She went the whole length of the one little street, and looked in all the open doorways, and traversed the one short alley that led behind the hotel.

Facing the street was the railroad, with the station farther up at the edge of the timber.