Gerald watched her perambulations in silence, his heart wrung. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy. ” “You do not understand me at all,” she declared. “Why—it’s—it’s you!” Amazement seemed to dry up the torrents of his speech. ’ ‘Yes, but I need a word with Gerald,’ protested the captain, hanging back.
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