“Lady, you see a recently returned traveler seeking some place to lay his weary head.”
“You came back to Marchton tonight?” she murmured. “Why didn’t you come to our house?”
“It was too late to barge in upon anybody. I had the brilliant thought of your club house and decided I would like to spend a night here again. So here I am,” he finished.
“It is boarded up for the winter,” Gale said with a distasteful glance around her at the dust and shuttered windows. “It isn’t very pleasant now.”
“Never mind about me,” he declared. “Young lady, you explain what you mean by running around at this hour of the night alone? You should be in bed and asleep.”
Gale grimaced wryly. “I wasn’t sleepy and I felt like walking.”
He swung her down from the table. “Come along, I’ll take you home.”
“But you aren’t coming back here, are you?” she protested when she saw he had left his traveling bag behind them in the club house.
“For tonight,” he said.
“But—but it is so cold and damp and—dangerous.”