"Did you see—her?" exclaimed Anthony.
"A fleshly brute if ever there was one!" said I.
"Such glorious eyes and hair—a sweet angelic creature, Perry. Her eyes seemed so big and appealing. Oh, curse it, why must women have such eyes. Damn everything!"
"It will be a beautiful night!" said I, staring up at the purple vault where stars began to wink.
"She looked—miserable—almost like one afraid."
"I wonder where we shall sleep, Anthony?"
"Oh, anywhere, in some barn, under a hedge, in a rick—what matter?
Why should she look afraid, I wonder?"
I made no answer, for truth to tell my mind yearned and my body hungered for the sweet, cool luxury of lavender sheets; the thought of a draughty barn or comfortless ditch appalled me, but I held my peace, only I scanned the dim road before me with eager eyes for some sign of tavern or inn.
And presently from the loom of trees I espied a twinkling light that upon our nearer approach I saw proceeded from a wayside inn with a great trough of water before it and a signboard whereon, though evening was falling apace, I could make out the legend—