That Vance Corliss wanted to see more of the girl he had divided blankets with, goes with the saying.

He had not been wise enough to lug a camera into the country, but none the less, by a yet subtler process, a sun-picture had been recorded somewhere on his cerebral tissues.

In the flash of an instant it had been done.

A wave message of light and color, a molecular agitation and integration, a certain minute though definite corrugation in a brain recess,--and there it was, a picture complete! The blazing sunlight on the beetling black; a slender gray form, radiant, starting forward to the vision from the marge where light and darkness met; a fresh young morning smile wreathed in a flame of burning gold.
It was a picture he looked at often, and the more he looked the greater was his desire, to see Frona Welse again.

This event he anticipated with a thrill, with the exultancy over change which is common of all life.