Marie heard him, and in that moment David caught in her face a look that made his heart ache--a look that should have been a part of his own life, and which he had missed.
A little later Thoreau led the way into the room which David was to occupy for the night.

It was a small room, with a sapling partition between it and the one in which the Missioner was to sleep.

The fox breeder placed a lamp on the table near the bed, and bade David good-night.
It was past two o'clock, and yet David felt at the present moment no desire for sleep.

After he had taken off his shoes and partially undressed, he sat on the edge of his bed and allowed his mind to sweep back over the events of the last few hours.

Again he thought of the woman in the coach--the woman with those wonderful, dark eyes and haunting face--and he drew forth from his coat pocket the package which she had forgotten.