Again there was a silence. Then his daughter turned to him with a little deprecating smile.
"You'll forgive my—preaching to you, dad?"
"No preaching," he said gruffly. "Just ordinary common sense."
A little later Allan came in, and Roger soon left them and went to bed. Alone with Baird she was silent a moment.
"Well? Have you thought it over?" she asked. "Wasn't I right in what I said?" At the anxious ring in her low clear voice, leaning over he took her hand; and he felt it hot and trembling as it quickly closed on his. He stroked it slowly, soothingly. In the semi-darkness he seemed doubly tall and powerful.
"Yes, I'm sure you were right," he said.
"Spring at the latest—I'll marry you then—"
Her eyes were intently fixed on his.
"Come here!" she whispered sharply, and Baird bent over and held her tight. "Tighter!" she whispered. "Tighter!... There!... I said, spring at the latest! I can't lose you, Allan—now—"