"Not at all," said Nap. "It is about eight miles through the woods. We should be benighted, of course. Also I fancy there is a storm coming up. But if you wish to make the attempt—"
"I was only wondering," she said quietly, "if we could get an evening train to Staps. That, I know, is on the main line. You could put up there, and I could take the night train to town."
"Oh, quite so," said Nap. "Shall we have tea before we start?"
They had emerged from the wood and were beginning to climb the hill. The veiled sunlight gave an unreal effect to the landscape. The broom bushes looked ghostly.
Anne gave an uneasy glance around. "I believe you are right about the storm," she said.
"I generally am right," observed Nap.
They walked on. "I shouldn't like to be benighted in the woods," she said presently.
His scoffing smile showed for an instant. "Alone with me too! Most improper!"
"I was thinking we might miss the way," Anne returned with dignity. "I wonder—shall we risk it?"
She turned to him as if consulting him, but Nap's face was to the sky. "That is for you to decide," he said. "We might do it. The storm won't break at present."