Jane liked them, for
their color: a dead flat of brown salt grass with patches of brilliant
emerald, and the black, snaky lines up which the tide crept, the
white-sailed boats looking as if they were wedged in the grass. She
liked that. Her tastes were all good.
How long _did_ they mean to wait? He went to the window and looked out.
Just then a horse neighed, and the sound oddly recalled the country-town
where they had lived after they came into this State. On market-days it
was one perpetual whinny along the streets from the colts trotting
along-side of the wagons. He and Jane used to keep open table for their
country-friends then, and on court- or fair-days. What a hard-fisted,
shrewd people they were! talking bad English (like Jane herself); but
there was more refinement and softness of feeling among them than among
city-bred men. He should relish that life again; it suited him. To die
like a grub? But he _had_ done his work. Thank God!
He opened the window to catch the damp air, as Dr. Bowdler came in and
touched him on the arm.
"Shall we stay here? Mr. Aikens has come, and they have been testing the
machine for some time, I find.
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