"He hasn't said anything about it—yet—but I'm not thinking of that. All I want is for somebody to love me. I'll be satisfied with that."
"You're all right, Fancy; only I hope you're not in for a broken heart," said Dougal.
"Just imagine Fancy with a broken heart!" Elsie laughed.
"Oh, you don't believe me, but you will sometime."
Fancy's eyes were not for them all this while. She was watching the passengers approaching the ferry, her glance darting from one to the other, scanning the cable-cars which drew up at the terminus, questing up toward Market Street, and along the sidewalks and crossings.
"Have you left Granthope?" Dougal inquired.
"Yep." Fancy, as usual, did not explain.
"Why didn't you let us know where you were, then?" he complained. "I was up to the place the other day looking for you, and no one seemed to know where you were."
Fancy, still watching for Cayley, did not answer.
"Have you got any money, Fancy?"