“Sometimes, I’m tempted,” he admitted. “It’s the leap in the dark, and no returning, that restrains, I reckon—and the fact that we must face it alone. Otherwise——”
She laughed softly. “Otherwise death would have no terrors! You have begged the question, or what amounts to it. But, to return to Annapolis; what else did you see?”
“You have been there?”
“Many times.”
“Then you know what I saw,” he replied. “I 194 had no wonderful adventures. This isn’t the day of the rapier and the mask.”
She half closed her eyes and looked at him through the long lashes.
“What were you doing down on Greenberry Point?” she demanded.
“How did you know?” he asked, surprised.
“Oh! very naturally. I was in Annapolis—I saw your name on the register—I inquired—and I had the tale of the camp. No one, however, seemed to think it queer!” laughing.
“Why should they? Camping out is entirely natural,” Croyden answered.