Through the heavy veil she could barely distinguish the flash of the eyes, while the hood of the _parka_ effectually concealed the hair, and the _parka_ proper the particular outlines of the body.

But How-ha paused and looked again.

There was something familiar in the vague general outline.

She quested back to the shrouded head again, and knew the unmistakable poise.

Then How-ha's eyes went blear as she traversed the simple windings of her own brain, inspecting the bare shelves taciturnly stored with the impressions of a meagre life.