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It is an hour later. Afternoon draws towards evening, yet one scarcely feels the change. It is sultry, drowsy, warm, and full of a "slow luxurious calm." "At home," returns he. He is gazing out of the window, with his hands clasped behind his back, and does not pay so much attention to her words as is his wont. The young man answered, "I am mourning for my wife. She died some time ago. I am looking for her.".
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Conrad
When he reached the camp he went to the lodge of Broken Bow—a brave young man, but very poor. "I had a small adventure," says Mona, presently, with suppressed gayety. All her gayety of late has been suppressed. "Just as I came back to the gate here, some one came riding by, and I turned to see who it was, at which his horse—as though frightened by my sudden movement—shied viciously, and then reared so near me as almost to strike me with his fore-paws. I was frightened rather, because it was all so sudden, and sprang to one side. Then the gentleman got down, and, coming to me, begged my pardon. I said it didn't matter, because I was really uninjured, and it was all my fault. But he seemed very sorry, and (it was dusk as I told you, and I believe he is short sighted) stared at me a great deal." "Do you know, Mona," says the young man, sorrowfully, "you are too good for me,—a fellow who has gone racketing all over the world for years. I'm not half worthy of you." "I do not know where I am going," he replied; "I am in trouble, but I cannot talk about it.".
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