“I never said so!” and “She never told me!” exclaimed Mary and Stefan simultaneously.
“No, you didn't,” the little doctor nodded wisely at her patient, “but I know.”
Stefan immediately began to plan an expedition in search of the ideal spot, as unspoiled if possible as Shadeham, but much nearer town. All through dinner he discussed it, his spirits hugely improved, and immediately after rang up Constance Elliot for advice.
“Hold the line,” the lady's voice replied, “while I consult.” In a minute or two she returned.
“Mr. Farraday is dining with us, and I've asked him. He lives at Crab's Bay, you know.”
“No, I don't,” objected Stefan.
“Well, he does,” her voice laughed back. “He was born there. He says if you like he will come over and talk to you about it, and I, like a self-sacrificing hostess, am willing to let him.”
“Splendid idea,” said Stefan, “ask him to come right over. Mary,” he called, hanging up the receiver, “Constance is sending Farraday across to advise us.”
“Oh, dear,” said she; “sometimes I feel almost overwhelmed by all the favors we receive from our friends.”
“Fiddlesticks! They are paid by the pleasure of our society. You don't seem to realize that we are unusually interesting and attractive people,” laughed he with a flourish.