She never had been much of a looker, but she had stopped worrying about such things long ago. He wore a battered sunhelmet, a loin-cloth and a pair of dilapidated canvas shoes. All at once they came to the top, the faded blue sky overhead, and whichever way he looked, the horizon, the great rocking circle which hemmed them in. Her eyebrows, pulled down by the stress of thought, now resumed their normal arches; and pleased with her discovery, she smiled. On the other hand, there was a subconscious impression that she would be able to read instantly anything unclean in a man's eye.
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