At other times, even quite unusual happenings cannot avail to lift a man
from dulness and poverty of mind; one can sit in the middle of a
ballroom and be cool, indifferent, unaffected by anything. Sorrow and
joy are from within oneself.

One day I remember now. I had gone down to the coast. The rain came on
suddenly, and I slipped into an open boathouse to sit down for a while.
I was humming a little, but not for any joy or pleasure, only to pass
the time. Asop was with me; he sat up listening, and I stopped humming
and listened as well. Voices outside; people coming nearer. A mere
chance--nothing more natural. A little party, two men and a girl, came
tumbling in suddenly to where I sat, calling to one another and
laughing:

"Quick! Get in here till it stops!"

I got up.

One of the men had a white shirt front, soft, and now soaked with rain
into the bargain, and all bagging down; and in that wet shirt front a
diamond clasp. Long, pointed shoes he wore, too, that looked somewhat
affected. I gave him good-day. It was Mack, the trader; I knew him
because he was from the store where I used to get my bread. He had asked
me to look in at the house any time, but I had not been there yet.

"Aha, it's you, is it?" said Mack at sight of me. "We were going up to
the mill, but had to turn back. Ever see such weather--what? And when
are you coming up to see us at Sirilund, Lieutenant?"