“Why did we eat so much this afternoon? They left us the biggest part of the luncheon. Henry, we are pigs,” moaned Clara, wanly.
“I know. We’re not the sort to be cast on a desert isle, I’m afraid. If the Sorias get back to-night——”
“They won’t. They’ll stay and make a night of it.”
“Perhaps the hungry feeling will wear off after a while,” said Hard, hopefully.
“I wonder? I’ve often thought I’d like to try a fast. One hears of people doing it and having such odd and fascinating sensations,” said Clara, thoughtfully.
“My sensations are odd,” replied Hard, “but they are distinctly not fascinating.”
They sat quietly for a while, watching the clouds hovering over the mountains, sometimes over the peaks, sometimes nestling in fleecy patches half-way up.
“The trail they took crosses about where that gap in the mountains is,” said Clara. “Under that first cloud, so Mr. Scott said.”
“Pretty high.”
“Yes, they’ll have to do some climbing.” Clara sighed softly. Hard felt an unreasonable desire, almost an angry desire to take her in his arms. It was a feeling unlike him, usually so moderate in his emotions.