“I’ll have them put up a lunch for you,” proposed Silvia.
“No,” Rob objected. “We are going to forage and cook over a fire in the woods.”
“Then,” I proposed to Silvia with alacrity, “we’ll have our first day alone together––the first we have had since the Polydores came into our lives. I’ll rent the ‘autoo’ again, and we will go through the country and dine at some little wayside inn.”
“Get the ‘autoo’, now, Lucien,” advised Beth privately, “and make an early start, so Rob and I can take supplies from the store without arousing Silvia’s suspicions.”
“I don’t believe,” said Silvia disappointedly, when we were “autooing” on our way, “that they are in love after all, 167 or that he has proposed, or that he is going to.”
“Where did you draw all those pessimistic inferences from?” I asked.
“From their both being so keen to take Diogenes with them.”
“Diogenes would be no barrier to their love-making,” I told her. “He couldn’t repeat what they said; at least, not so anyone could understand him.”
Many miles away we came upon a picturesque little old-time tavern where we had an appetizing dinner, and then continued on our aimless way. It was nearly ten o’clock when we returned to the hotel, where the owner of the “autoo” was waiting.
Rob came down the roadway.