Members of the crowd looked over their shoulders and stared at her through the smoky haze. But in his presence a wall of diffidence and timidity encompassed her. The door of cabin 2 was open. She spoke with many other high schoolers while reveling in her new popularity. His face was downcast. Men of action by the scarlet coats with their grey facings—insignia of the county militia. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. It was an awful moment—so awful, that every other feeling except deep interest in the scene seemed suspended.
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