Joan twinkled.
"Every man must decide that for himself," she replied with a charming turn of her head.
"Every—man?" Raymond's face fell.
"Certainly. You don't think you are the only man, do you?"
"Well, the only one left in town."
Raymond gave a little laugh and changed the subject. He had no intention of getting behind his companion's screen. With a wider conception of his path, he more diligently kept to the middle.
After the first fortnight he even went so far as to arrange for business engagements, now and then, in order to keep his brain clear.
Joan always met these empty spaces in her days with a keen sense of loss which she hid completely from Raymond.
His business demands were offset by her skilfully timed escapes from the Brier Bush. She would either be too early or too late for Raymond, and so while he paid homage to his code, Joan appeared to make the code unnecessary.
And the weather became hotter and moister and the moral and physical fibre of the city-bound became limper.