"I have no right to ask it, I know, but—I want you to do something for me."
"It will make me very happy—anything you ask."
"Go back to Boston."
"What! Not that. I was wrong—that wouldn't make me happy."
"Yes, it would. You don't think so now, perhaps. You're dazzled by the sun out here, but this isn't your kind of place. We're not your kind of people. You think you like us, but you'd soon forget. Back among your own sort—the sort who are interested in the things that interest you. Please go."
"It would be retreating under fire," he objected.
"But you proved your courage, last night. I'm afraid for you. Some one out here has a terrible grudge against you. I'd never forgive Hawaii if—if anything happened to you."
"That's sweet of you." He moved closer. But—confound it—there was Agatha. Bound to Agatha by all the ties of honor. He edged away again. "I'll think about it," he agreed.
"I'm leaving Honolulu too, you know," she reminded him.
"I know. You'll have a wonderful time in England."