Fay raised his brows. “I hadn’t thought of that,� he said slowly. “It does look queer. But a pair of smoked-glasses don’t answer the riddle.�
“You shouldn’t have thrown them into the sea.�
“You don’t think I was going to take anything like that back to Sir Richard, do you?�
She rose and stood before him. Her hands were straight down at her sides. Her upturned face was heated and burning. She flashed an inner signal which he did not understand.
“I despise you now,� she said slowly. “You’re clever and you’re keen-brained and you’re cool-headed, but you overlook the trifles. You have failed a dozen times on account of trifles. You can’t see that little things have vast importance, sometimes. The smoked-glasses were a trifle. You threw them away before I
knew what you were doing. Suppose they turn out to be the cipher-key.�
Fay drew away from her a step. “Suppose they do,� he said. “We can’t ever get them back. Why not quit arguing in a circle and come down to facts? I want you to go to Stavanger with me. I need a pal, who is a sticker. We’ll forget England and what happened there. I’ll never say I was at Dartmoor. I can change my name and live the thing down. I want to get away from the memory of that cell and those guards and the sneaking servants of the law. I want the open places where I can see the stars.�
She softened her glance perceptibly. He swept her slender form. Her skirt, her shoes, her waist and feather-dragging hat, were all sea-soaked and mist-flattened. Her eyes and the jewels on her fingers alone spoke the Saidee Isaacs of other days.
“Come on,� he said, snatching up her hand. “There’s a trail inland and a wide world to walk in. Let’s find a hay-mow or barn and go to sleep. We’ll feel better when we wake up. I’m sorry about the glasses, but I hated the thing from the beginning and now I know I was right.�
She feared to temporize with him. He had one virtue which outweighed his faults. She knew in his heart there was loyalty. He had never been known to turn on a friend.