“Ye-es?” intoned Jean enquiringly.
“She wants you to come up to-morrow, just for one night. It’ll be a full moon and she says you have a hankering to see the Moor by moonlight. Have you?”
“Yes, oh yes!”—with enthusiasm.
“Thought so. It certainly does look topping. Quite worth seeing. Well, look here, Judy’s got a party of friends, down from town, who are coming over to us from the South Devon side—going to drive up and stay the night, and the idea is to do a moonlight scramble up on to the top of one of the tors after supper. Are you game?”
“Oh! How heavenly!” This, ecstatically, from Jean.
“How what?”
“Heavenly! Heavenly!”—with increasing emphasis.
“Can’t you hear?”
“Oh, ‘heavenly’—yes, I hear. Yes, it would be rather—if you came.”
Even through the’phone Burke’s voice conveyed something of that upsettingly fiery ardour of his.