on her. There was, however, very
little to see; the mass of the great elevators that cut against a
lowering sky, the little cluster of houses, and the sea of churned-up
mire between them and the track. There also appeared to be no station
except a big water tank and a rather unsightly shed, about which stood
a group of blurred and shapeless figures. It seemed very cold, and
Agatha shivered as she felt the raw wind strike through her.

Then one of the figures detached itself from the rest and grew clearer.
The man wore an old skin coat spattered with flakes of mire, and his
long boots were covered with clots of the same material. His fur cap
looked greasy, and the fur had been rubbed off it in patches; but while
she noticed these things it was his face that struck her most, and she
became conscious of an astonishment which was mixed with vague
misgivings as she gazed at it, for it had subtly changed since she had
last seen it. The joyous sparkle she remembered had gone out of the
eyes. They were harder, bolder, than they used to be. The mouth was
slack--it almost looked sensual--and the man's whole personality seemed
to have grown coarser. Then as she thrust the disconcerting fancies
from her the car stopped.

In another moment Hawtrey sprang up on the platform, and she felt his
arms about her. That brought the blood to her face, but she felt none
of the thrill she had expected. Indeed, she was subconsciously
sensible of a certain shrinking from his embrace. Then, and she
fancied he must have lifted her bodily down, she stood beside the track
with Mrs. Hastings, a man whom she supposed to be the latter's husband,
Winifred, and Wyllard about her. Another man was also standing close
by, apparently waiting until they noticed him. He was flecked with
mire all over, his skin coat was very dilapidated, and Agatha fancied
that his boots had never been cleaned. His hair, which had evidently
been very badly cut, straggled out from under his old fur cap.

[Illustration: "In another moment Hawtrey sprang up on the platform,
and she felt his arms about her."]

In the meanwhile, Gregory was apparently explaining something to Mrs.
Hastings. "No," he said, "I'm sorry it can't be for another week.
Horribly unfortunate. It seems they've sent the Methodist on down the
line, and we'll have to wait for the Episcopalian. He'll be at
Lander's for a few days."

Then Agatha's cheeks flamed, for she recognised that it was h