"--but I want you to know that I'm going to wait for it till--Midsummer
Day. Then"--he bent still closer--"you will give it to me yourself. I'm
saying this foolhardy sort of thing to give you something to remember
all these months--I've got to. You'll have so many other people saying
things to you when I can't that I've got to startle you in order to make
an impression that will stick. That one will, won't it?"
A reluctant smile touched her lips. "It's quite possible that it may,"
she conceded. "It probably would, whoever had the audacity to say it.
But--to know a fate that threatens is to be forewarned.
And--fortunately--a girl can always run away."
"You can't run so far that I can't follow. Meanwhile, tell me just one
thing--"
"I'll tell you nothing more. We've been gone for ages now--there come
the others--please start on."
"Good-bye, dear," said he, under his breath. "Good-bye--till Midsummer.
But then--"
"No, no, you must _not_ say it--or think it."
"I'm going to think it, and so are you. I defy you to forget it. You may
see that lawyer Westcott every day, and no matter what you're saying to
him, every once in a while will bob up the thought--Midsummer Day!"
"Hush! I won't listen! Please skate faster!"
"You _shall_ listen--to just one thing more.
Pages:
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265