"Oh, I've been here before, you know."
"Don't you believe in second times? Or is a second time always second best?"
"Not when—Of course I want to go. But I can't leave the car alone."
My eyes wandered toward the inn door. "There's a boy there who looks as if he were born to be a watch-dog," said I, basely tempting him. "Couldn't you—"
"No, I couldn't," he said decidedly. "At a place like this, where there are a lot of tourists about, it wouldn't be right. It was different at Valescure, when I took you in to lunch."
"You mean I mustn't make that a precedent."
"I don't mean anything conceited."
"But you won't desert Mr. Micawber. I believe I shall name the car Micawber! Well, then, I must go by myself—and if I should fall into the fountain and be drowned—"
"Don't talk nonsense, and don't do anything foolish," said Mr. Dane, sternly, whereupon I turned my back upon him, and plunged into the cool shadows of the gorge. The great white cliff of limestone was my goal, and always it towered ahead, as I followed the narrow pathway above the singing water. I sighed as I paused to look at a garden which maybe once was Petrarch's, for it was sad to find my way to fairyland, alone. Even a brother's company would have been better than none, I thought!
Soon I met my master and mistress coming back.