Had I been less excited, I should have enjoyed the passing emotions that played successively across her face. Amazement, happiness, wonder, fear, terror and after all, a beautiful trust, that told me more than all the rest.
“Gray,” she said, “I shall love you some day, I promise you that, now, but first, you must, you will help me! I am in danger, I can’t explain all to you now, I’m not sure I ever can, but in one matter you must help me. There is something I want destroyed, something that must be destroyed. Will you attend to that?”
“Of course I will. Give it to me quickly. Is it small enough to throw into the lake?”
“Small enough, yes. But it won’t sink. Weight it, and throw it in the lake when nobody can possibly see you, or else burn it—but you couldn’t do that?”
“Not very well, as I am visiting friends. But give it to me, and I’ll see to it that it is destroyed at once.”
“I hoped to do it myself, but I think—I fear I am being watched. When I went to the village with Merry, a man in a canoe seemed to follow and he watched me, yet tried to look as if he were not watching me. Oh, I know.”
“Did you object to Moore’s questioning?”
“Oh, no.” She looked weary and a little sad. “I suppose I must go through with a lot of that.”
“Do you mind his looking at your wardrobe?”
“No,” she smiled at this. “What does he expect to find? I haven’t any other rubber-soled shoes. I’ve ordered a new tan pair, but they haven’t come home yet.”