It was not a bitter wind, only a piteous one.
"It's--it's come in," she said, quaking a little, and went back to her bed.
When she awakened in the morning she realised that she must have fallen asleep as quickly as Robin had, for she remembered nothing after her head had touched the pillow.

The wind had ceased and the daylight found her herself again.
"It was silly," she said, "but it did something for me as silliness will sometimes.

Walls and shut windows are nothing to them.

If he came, he came without my help.

But it pacified the foolish part of me." She went into Robin's room with a sense of holding her breath, but firm in her determination to breathe and speak as a matter of fact woman should.
Robin was standing at her window already dressed in the short skirt and soft hat.