It had been, by and large, a singularly speechless day, which my
spasmodic efforts at entertainment had failed to cheer. The girl tried
to respond, but her eyes were strained, eager, shadowed; her answers
came at random. My talk, I suppose, teased her ears like the troublesome
buzzing of a fly.
"She is thinking," I decided at last, "about those papers. Lord, if she
doesn't find them she is going to take it hard!"
I left her in peace after that and drove the faster. Luck was with us!
At the end of our journey everything would be all right.
As evening settled down on us the road grew increasingly lonely. Woods
of oak-trees were about us, their trunks mossy, their branches lacing;
on our left was a narrow river thick with rushes and smooth green
stones. So rutty was the earth that our wheels sank into it and our
engine labored. There was a charming sylvan look about the scenery; we
seemed to be alone in the universe: I could not recall when we had last
seen a peasant or passed a hut.
Suddenly I realized that there was a sound in the distance, not
continuous, but steadily recurrent, a faint booming, I thought.
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