"Shall we go away?" Peter asked, simply, when she stopped at the great stone that Alix, for the view it commanded, had christened Sunrise Rock. Cherry dropped down upon it, facing away from him across the soft green luminous light of the valley.
"Go where?" she asked.
"Go anywhere!" he answered. "We have money enough; we can leave Alix rich--she will still have her cabin and her dogs and the life she loves. But there are other tiny places, Cherry; there are little cabins in Hawaii, there are Canadian villages--Cherry, there are thousands of places in the south of France where we might live for years and never be questioned, and never be annoyed."
"France!" she whispered, and the downcast face he was watching so eagerly was thoughtful. "How could we go," she breathed. "You first, and then I? To meet somewhere?"
"We would have to go together," he decided, swiftly. "Everyone must know, dear; you realize that?"
Wide-eyed, she was staring at him as if spellbound by some new hope; now she shrugged her shoulders in careless disdain.
"That isn't of any consequence!"
"You don't feel it so!" He sat down beside her, and again they locked hands.
"Not that part," she answered, simply. "I mind--Alix," she added, thoughtfully.
"Yes, I mind Alix!" he admitted.