"Egad!" exclaimed Wood, "you've hit the right nail on the head, anyhow. For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. He leaned towards her as though anxious to see more of her face than that faint delicate profile gleaming like marble in the uncertain light. She was dressed in a simple evening gown of soft creamy silk, with a yoke of dark old embroidery that enhanced the gentle gravity of her style, and her black hair flowed off her open forehead to pass under the control of a simple ribbon of silver. She was still fully dressed; so all she had to do was to pause before the mirror and give her hair a few pats. One hour later she had gone back to the mission—without the salt. "I am too much honoured—too happy in the union. She used his own gun against him, a method that was occasionally cleaner than slitting throats when she got it right. And you have to thank her presence, hot-headed boy, that I do not chastise your insolence as it deserves.
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