“That I can hardly say—it all depends.” She hesitated. “It may be a couple of weeks and it may be more, but I hope to get away before the bitter weather sets in.”
Her face had suddenly become grave. He could sense that allusion to her business in this wild part of Canada, whatever it might be, distressed her, so he dropped the subject for less personal matters.
When they finally came out upon the lakeshore at the foot of the trail the girl stayed him with a hand upon his arm. “This is where we must part to-day,” she said looking anxiously along the beach.
He did not question her evident haste to leave him. “When may I come again?” he asked.
“Any time.” Softly. “To-morrow, if it’s nice.”
She was standing with her little white hand extended. He looked down into those wondrous blue orbs with their warm light—and was lost. His right hand closed over her fingers and his left went about her little shoulders and swept her to him.
She gasped frightenedly, suppressing a startled cry. “Not yet—not here,” she pleaded.
“That was unfair of me,” he started to say, but he did not release her. “I—”
“Not if you—you hurry.” The significance of her low whisper was tantalising.