"I've meant what I've said," he whispered in spite of himself, "you're the loveliest girl in all the world."
There was a moment of silence in which her hand fluttered uneasily in his, while a gentle color came into her face.
Then abruptly she withdrew her fingers and sprang up, her face aflame.
"Go along with you! You'll be making love to me next."
He sank back into his chair, silent, perturbed, as he realized that this was just what was in his heart.
"Come," she laughed, "we've got all the dishes to wash. And then you're to be getting to bed, or your head will be aching in the morning. Allons!"
She brought him to himself with the clear, cool note of camaraderie, and with a short laugh and a shrug which hid a complexity of feeling, he followed her into the kitchen with the dishes. But a restraint had fallen between them. Moira worked with a business-like air, rather overdoing it. And Jim Horton, sure that he was a blackguard of sorts, wiped the dishes she handed to him and then obediently followed her to the room off the hall where his baggage had been carried.
She put the candle on the table and gave him her frankest smile.
"Sleep sound, my dear. For to-morrow I'll be showing you the sights."
"Good-night, Moira," he said gently.