She must
have picked fresh flowers each day and kept them waiting the hour of his
coming, and she had thought of him in Tanana, where she had purchased
the cloth for the curtains and the covers. He went into his bedroom and
found new curtains at the window, a new coverlet on his bed, and a pair
of red morocco slippers that he had never seen before. He took them up
in his hands and laughed when he saw how she had misjudged the size
of his feet.
In the living-room he sat down and lighted his pipe, observing that
Keok's phonograph, which had been there earlier in the evening, was
gone. Outside, the noise of the celebration died away, and the growing
stillness drew him to the window from which he could see the cabin where
lived Keok and Nawadlook with their foster-father, the old and shriveled
Sokwenna. It was there Mary Standish had said she was staying. For a
long time Alan watched it while the final sounds of the night drifted
away into utter silence.
It was a knock at his door that turned him about at last, and in answer
to his invitation Stampede came in. He nodded and sat down. Shiftingly
his eyes traveled about the room.
"Been a fine night, Alan. Everybody glad to see you."
"They seemed to be. I'm happy to be home again."
"Mary Standish did a lot. She fixed up this room.
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