CHAPTER I 

MABEL PONDERS 

It was four o'clock in the afternoon and Marston sat by a window in an English country house. His pose was limp and his face was thin, for the fever had shaken him, but he felt his strength coming back. Outside, bare trees shook their branches in a fresh west wind, and a white belt of surf crept across the shining sands in the broad estuary. On the other side, the Welsh hills rose against the sunset in a smooth black line. 

Marston felt pleasantly languid and altogether satisfied. Mabel had put a cushion under his head and given him a footstool. It was soothing to be taken care of by one whom one loved, and after the glare of the Caribbean and the gloom of the swamps, the soft colors and changing lights of the English landscape rested his eyes. For all that, they did not wander long from Mabel, who sat close by, quietly pondering. With her yellow hair and delicate pink skin she looked very English, and all that was English had an extra charm for Marston. He liked her thoughtful calm. Mabel was normal; she, so to speak, walked in the light, and the extravagant imaginings he had indulged at the lagoon vanished when she was about. 

Yet he had been forced to remember much, for Chisholm and Flora had come to hear his story, and he had felt he must make them understand in order to do his comrade justice. Flora's grateful glance and the sparkle in Chisholm's eyes hinted that he had not altogether failed. 
What way was the wind blowing?
What rose against the sunset?
Was the wind fresh?
What shook their branches?
Were they outside?
What time was it?
Who sat?
What did he sit by?
Where?
Did he have a fever recently?
How did Marston feel?
Who was taking care of him?
What did she put under his head
What rested his eyes?
What color was Mabel's hair
Was she calm?
What color was her skin
Did people come to hear his story?
Who?
Had he failed?
west
a fresh west wind, 
the Welsh hills
, the Welsh hills rose against the sunset in a smooth black line. 

yes
 in a fresh west wind
bare trees
Outside, bare trees shook their branches
yes
Outside, bare trees shook their branches
four o'clock
It was four o'clock 
Marston
Marston sat by a window 
they sat by a window
 Marston sat by a window
in an English country house
Marston sat by a window in an English country house
yes
 for the fever had shaken him
he felt his strength coming back
but he felt his strength coming back
Mabel
Mabel had put a cushion under his head and given him a footstool. 
a cushion
Mabel had put a cushion under his head 
the English landscape
the English landscape rested his eyes. 
yellow
With her yellow hair 
yes
who sat close by, quietly pondering
pink
 delicate pink skin
yes
Chisholm and Flora had come to hear his story
Chisholm and Flora
Chisholm and Flora had come to hear his story
not altogether
Flora's grateful glance and the sparkle in Chisholm's eyes hinted that he had not altogether failed.