Following his gaze she
saw the snow whipping against the glass, rattling against the panes like
small hailstones hurled with frightful velocity. The incessant droning
whine of the wind reached their ears, deep in volume as though it would
tell them of its interrupted sweep across the vast plains; as though to
convince them of its unlimited power and ferocity. She knew as well as
he that the big drifts around the cabin had grown bigger; that other
drifts were forming around the walls. For the sounds were muffled, and a
great, weird calm had settled inside the cabin. The walls, snow-banked,
were deadening outside sound.
"A man couldn't go half a mile in that, now, Miss Wharton. And it will
be days before anybody can reach us. I am afraid we are in for a long
spell of monotony."
"Well," she said, gazing straight at him; a glow in her eyes that
puzzled him; "we can't help it, can we? And I suppose we shall have to
make the best of it."
Lawler, however, did not expect the storm to last more than a day or so.
They seldom did, at this time of the year. He had drawn the gloomy
picture merely in an attempt to force Miss Wharton to realize the
indelicacy of her position. He had thought she would have exhibited
perturbation. Instead, she was calm and plainly unworried.
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