1 The effect produced on Frome was rather of a complete absence of atmosphere, as though nothing less tenuous than ether intervened between the white earth under his feet and the metallic dome overhead.
2 He had supposed her to be asleep, and the sound of her voice had startled him, though she was given to abrupt explosions of speech after long intervals of secretive silence.
3 In another moment she would step forth into the night, and his eyes, accustomed to the obscurity, would discern her as clearly as though she stood in daylight.
4 Not for the world would he have made a sign to her, though it seemed to him that his life hung on her next gesture.
5 Frome noticed that she no longer turned her head from side to side, as though peering through the night for another figure.
6 For this purpose her equipment, though varied, was inadequate.
7 Zenobia, though doubtful of the girl's efficiency, was tempted by the freedom to find fault without much risk of losing her; and so Mattie came to Starkfield.
8 His mother had been a talker in her day, but after her "trouble" the sound of her voice was seldom heard, though she had not lost the power of speech.
9 A mournful peace hung on the fields, as though they felt the relaxing grasp of the cold and stretched themselves in their long winter sleep.
10 "I suppose it was Ruth and Ned," she said in a low voice, as though he had suddenly touched on something grave.
11 She looked up at him languidly, as though her lids were weighted with sleep and it cost her an effort to raise them.
12 To have them was in itself a distinction, though it was also, in most cases, a death-warrant.
13 There was a moment's pause in the struggle, as though the combatants were testing their weapons.
14 The words went on sounding between them as though a torch of warning flew from hand to hand through a black landscape.
15 Her cry steadied him, though it deepened his wrath and pity.