"You?" she said.
Brooke laughed softly, and swept his hand vaguely round, as though to indicate the shining river and dusky trees.
"Yes," he said. "You remember how I met you at Quatomac. Who else could it be?"
"Nobody," said Barbara, with a tinge of color in her face. "At least, any one else would have been distinctly out of place."
Brooke tightened his grasp on the hand she had laid in his, for which there was some excuse, since the stone she stood upon was round and smooth, and it was a long step to the next one.
"You knew I was here?" he said.
"Yes," said Barbara, quietly.
Brooke felt his heart throbbing painfully. "And you could have framed an excuse for staying away?"
The girl glanced at him covertly as he stood very straight looking down on her, with lips that had set suddenly, and tension in his face. The moonlight shone into it, and it was, she noticed, quieter and a little grimmer than it had been, while his sinewy frame still showed spare to gauntness in the thin conventional dress. This had its significance to her.
"Of course!" she said. "Still, it did not seem necessary. I had no reason for wishing to stay away."