“You won’t quarrel with Robin about me, will you?” she wheedled.
“No. He won’t,” Robin put in, his pride a little in arms at the idea of her pleading for him. “It takes two to make a quarrel.”
“No, we won’t quarrel,” Sutherland answered. “There ain’t goin’ to be any argument, even.”
“I want to see you before you leave,” May said to Robin.
“You will,” he told her. “I can promise you that.”
“Are you sure you’ll keep that promise?” old Adam’s eyes narrowed as he asked the question.
“Yes,” Robin said gently. His gaze, which had followed Sutherland’s look through the window, noted Mark Steele standing by a porch column. He wondered how Steele had got there unheard and how Sutherland’s heavy tread had not warned them of his coming. He had a flash of how completely love may absorb a man and dull his alertness for other things. Looking now at Shining Mark’s head and shoulders limned against the sky he qualified his simple assertion. “Yes, if I’m on my feet and able to navigate.”
Sutherland caught Robin’s meaning.
“There ain’t goin’ to be no show-down—not yet,” he said. “Come on.”
May, too, had seen Steele.