Nothing could happen now; the world had grown still and calm.

The spirit drew the sleeves of the robe snugly about her arms and laid Kathlyn's head upon them and drew her down into a profound slumber.
Half a mile to the north of the ruined temple there lay, all unsuspected by Kathlyn, a village--a village belonging solely to the poor, mostly ryots or tillers of the soil.

The poor in Asia know but two periods of time--for rarely do they possess such a thing as a watch or a clock--sunset and sunrise.

Perhaps the man of the family may sit a while at dusk on his mud door-sill, with his bubbling water pipe (if he has one), and watch the stars slowly swing across the arch.

A pinch of very bad tobacco is slowly consumed; then he enters the hunt [Transcriber's note: hut ?], flings himself upon his matting (perhaps a cotton rug, more likely a bundle of woven water reeds) and sleeps.