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All these faults, and others of even less weight, are an abomination in the eyes of Lady Rodney, who has fallen into a prim mould, out of which it would now be difficult to extricate her. The man who manages the farm generally—and is a plague and a blessing at the same time to his master—appears round a corner, and declares, respectfully, that he will be ready in a "jiffy" to accompany Miss Mona, if she will just give him time to "clane himself up a bit." Alas! how soon will fall upon him that eternal sleep from which no man waketh!.
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Conrad
Weasel Heart waited for his friend as long as Fisher had waited for him, and when Fisher came out of the water it was at the place where Weasel Heart had come out. Then the two friends went home to the camp. In the background partly hidden by the gathering gloom, some fifteen men, and one or two women, are all huddled together, whispering eagerly, with their faces almost touching. The women, though in a great minority, are plainly having the best of it. Slowly she turns her head away from him, and, as though following out a train of thought, fixes her eyes upon the panelled wall in front of her. It is growing dusk; "the shades of night are falling fast," the cold pale sun, that all day long has cast its chill October beams upon a leafless world, has now sunk behind the distant hill, and the sad silence of the coming night hath set her finger with deep touch upon creation's brow..
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