“All right,” she agreed.
There they lounged and looked down upon the Lake.
“Whose boat is that?” He pointed towards a “Class A” yacht tacking across the Lake, evidently aiming for Phœbe’s dock. “I believe it is Walter’s boat with the new sails!”
They watched it for some time. As it drew nearer they could make out two figures, evidently Walter and Jawn. No doubt they had sailed up to Penn Yan to get the new canvas. The Sago-ye-wat-ha looked splendid in her new suit and seemed almost self-conscious. The races would begin next week, Jerry told him. They speculated on the chances of success, and grew loyally confident of “their” boat.
Neither of them wished to talk about Walter. The subject brought up uncomfortable memories. Several times she nerved herself to the point of telling him the ruse she had employed to check Walter’s dangerous suspicions, but each time she swerved off. Throbbing blood-vessels warned her that she would not perform with her accustomed calm. She was too tired, she told herself. After she had fully recovered from the long swim, she assured herself, she would make the matter clear.
And several times he was on the point of letting her know that he knew. She must be told soon; one could never be sure of Jawn’s indelicate humour. But his old shyness would seize him at the critical moment. So unwillingly their talk drifted to Mrs. Wells and the accounts.
“Have you still your five dollars?” she asked.
“Yes,” he laughed and produced his wallet. “This is a fine place to live; there’s no way to spend money. I think I’ll frame this bill as a souvenir.”
“You had better let me give you enough to pay for a ticket to New York——”
“Oh, I have no intention of going yet!” said he.