No reply or sound came in response, and
presently a low muttering of distant thunder broke.
"That will bring them in short order," she said, "and surely they will
not object if I make myself comfortable until they come."
She went inside. The room had the appearance of one from which the owner
had long been absent, that unaccountable, vacant look, although a
work-bag hung on the back of a chair by the roaring fire, and a blot of
oil lay on the table near the lamp which had evidently been recently
filled. Back of these tokens lay a wide sense of desolation.
For a moment Priscilla hesitated before sitting down; her courage failed,
but a second thought reconciled conditions with a brief stay after long
absence, and she decided to wait.
And while she waited, suddenly and alarmingly, the storm burst! The
darkness of the room and the wooded space outside had deceived her: there
was no escape now!
She was concerned for the people she had come to see. Jerry-Jo, she knew,
would crawl under his boat and be as dry as a tortoise in its shell. But
those others!
With this thought she set about, mechanically, making the room
comfortable.
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