He noticed it at once, and sought to give her confidence by carefully keeping his face turned away from her.
“Are you warmer now?” he asked. “I’m so vexed I came away without a flask.”
“I am quite warm,” she said, and then suddenly discovered he was in his shirtsleeves, and exclaimed, “Where is your coat?”
“I got so hot climbing,” he replied unblushingly, “and then, after lighting the fire, I could not bear it on.”
She looked down at herself.
“No, no, you have given it to me,” she cried. “Oh, how could you—you will be frozen!” and she began to take it off.
“No, Paddy,” and a firm hand closed over hers; “you are not to take it off.”
“But I must,” she cried. “I can’t see you catching your death of cold. Let go, Lawrence.”
The hand only held more firmly.
“Listen to me. I have got twice the hardihood that you have, and there is not the least fear of my catching cold. You are in my care until someone comes to look for us or we are able to find our way back, and I shall not allow you to take off that coat.”