It was significant that Raymond should know at once who it was. All the love and yearning in the world would not have drawn Nancy through the sleeping house to him. The knowledge made him smile grimly, happily.
Doris, once having said good-night, meant it, and Martin had gone to his bungalow.
"Well—here I am." Joan appeared and sat down, looking as if she were doing the most commonplace thing in life. It was the old daring that had led to dangerous ways.
"Is it—safe?"
"Why not?" It was the same frank, childlike look.
"But—Nancy; your Aunt——"
Joan twisted her mouth humorously.
"We'll have to risk them—you said you had something to say."
"Joan! Good Lord! but it's great to have a name to call you by—you drove me pretty hard to-night. I make no complaint—except——" He paused.
"For Nancy?" Joan asked.