“I suppose not,” said Davila. “But I’m glad I don’t have to play the part.” She hesitated a moment. “Elaine, I don’t know how to thank you for my freedom——”
“Wait until you have it!” the other laughed. “Though there isn’t a doubt of the check being paid.”
“My grandfather, I know, will repay you with his entire fortune, but that will be little——”
Elaine stopped her further words by placing a hand over her mouth, and kissing her.
“That’s quite enough, dear!” she said. “Take it that the reward is for my release, and that you were just tossed in for good measure—or, that it is a slight return for the pleasure of visiting you—or, that the money is a small circumstance to me—or, that it is a trifling sum to pay to be 320 saved the embarrassment of proposing to Geoffrey, myself—or, take it any way you like, only, don’t bother your pretty head an instant more about it. In the slang of the day: ‘Forget it,’ completely and utterly, as a favor to me if for no other reason.”
“I’ll promise to forget it—until we’re free,” agreed Davila.
“And, in the meantime, let us have a look around this old boat,” said Elaine. “You’re nearer the door, will you open it? Two can’t pass in this room.”
Davila tried the door—it refused to open.
“It’s locked!” she said.
“Oh, well! we will content ourselves with watching the Bay through the port hole, and when one wants to turn around the other can crawl up in her bunk. I’m going to write a book about this experience, some time.—I wonder what Geoffrey and Colin are doing?” she laughed—“running around like mad and stirring up the country, I reckon.”