The train with a shrill whistle pulled into Summering. For a moment the black coaches stood still in the silvery light of the uplands to eject a few vivid human figures and to swallow up others. Exacerbated voices called back and forth; then with a puffing and a chugging and another shrill shriek the dark train clattered into the opening of the tunnel and once more the landscape stretched before the view unbroken in all its wide expanse the background swept clean by the moist wind.