"Let me know when you expect me to pose for you," she said without turning her head.
"I was an idiot to tell you that!" he exploded. "Can't you understand that that fool suggestion about the desert island and a—er—a woman was Grider's and not mine? How could I know that he would ever be criminal enough to turn it into a fact?"
"Oh, if you can call it criminal, and really mean it—" she threw out.
"I'll call it anything in the vocabulary if only you won't quarrel with me. Goodness knows, things are bad enough without that!"
She let him see a little more of her face. The frown had disappeared, and there were signs that the storm of indignation was passing.
"I suppose it isn't a particle of use to quarrel," she admitted. "What is done is done and can't be helped, however much we may agree to despise your barbarous friend, Mr. Grider. How is it all going to end?"
At this Prime aired his small idea. "Our provisions won't last more than a day or two; they were evidently not intended to. If that means anything, it means that Grider will come back for us before long. He certainly can't do less."
"To-day?"
"Let us hope so. Have you ever camped out in the woods before?"
"Never."