So she picked and chose and rejected, and chose again, and often paused in sad revery, and began again, till at length she filled the pack.
It was about sunset, and she and Fay had finished supper and were sitting in the court, when Venters's quick steps rang on the stones.
She scarcely knew him, for he had changed the tattered garments, and she missed the dark beard and long hair.

Still he was not the Venters of old.

As he came up the steps she felt herself pointing to the pack, and heard herself speaking words that were meaningless to her.

He said good-by; he kissed her, released her, and turned away.

His tall figure blurred in her sight, grew dim through dark, streaked vision, and then he vanished.
Twilight fell around Withersteen House, and dusk and night.