Page:The wheels of chance -- a bicycling idyll.djvu/153

Rh Do you know what the streets of a charming little holiday resort are like—"

"I don't care," she said. "I can go to the clergyman here."

"He 's a charming man. Unmarried. And men are really more alike than you think. And anyhow—"

"Well?"

"How can you explain the last two nights to anyone now? The mischief is done, Jessie."

"You cur," she said, and suddenly put her hand to her breast. He thought she meant to faint, but she stood, with the colour gone from her face.

"No," he said. "I love you."

"Love!" said she.

Yes—love."

"There are ways yet," she said, after a pause.

"Not for you. You are too full of life and hope yet for, what is it?—not the dark arch nor the black flowing river. Don't you think of it. You'll only shirk it when the moment comes, and turn it all into comedy."

She turned round abruptly from him and stood looking out across the parade at the shining sea over which the afterglow of day fled before the rising moon. He maintained his attitude. The blinds were still up, for she had told the waiter not to draw them. There was silence for some moments.