"I'll begin the minute you say so," I told her.
"Then it's arranged," said my companion, with an exceedingly comfortable sigh. "We've taken a cottage up on the Sound for the summer," she continued. "And we're moving up to-morrow. Suppose you come up over Sunday."
"Thanks. I'd love to," I replied.
"So she's to be away for months," I added dismally to myself. "No more of these long afternoons."
CHAPTER X
On the following Saturday, when I met her boat at an East River dock, at once I felt a difference. We were waiting for her father. The moments dragged and I grew glum, try as I would to be pleasant.
"Here he is," she said at last.
Tall, rather lank and loosely clothed, Dillon was coming down the pier in easy leisurely fashion, talking to a man by his side. His face lighted up when he saw us.
"Just a minute," he said.