It surprised Caius to feel suddenly that he could almost have wept, too, and yet he believed that the child was better dead.
Someone had been out into the winter fields and gathered the small white everlasting flowers that were still waving there, and twined them in the curls of the baby's hair, and strewed them upon the meagre gray sheet that covered it.
When they rode down to the village they were all quite silent.

Caius felt as if he had lived a long time upon this island.

His brain was full of plans for a hospital and for disinfecting the furniture of the houses.
He visited the good man in whose barn he had slept the preceding night.
He went to his little house and fed himself and his horse.

He discovered his portmanteaus that O'Shea had promised to deliver, and found that their contents had not been tampered with; but even this did not bring his mind back with great interest to the events of the former night.

He was thinking of other things, and yet he hardly knew of what he was thinking..