The gale, laden with dust and grit, bit and stung and tore rudely at his coat and hair.
The great lamps of the car flashed brilliantly ahead, revealing the wind-beaten grasses by the wayside.

Somewhere back in his mind there was a troublesome stir of conscience.

It had bothered him for days.
It had driven him irresistibly to-night at dinner to speak of visiting his cousin's camp, though he bit his lip immediately afterward in a flash of indecision.

The turbulent night had seemed of a sort to think things over.

Moonlit fields and roads were enervating.