Ann nodded.
“Isn’t it getting rather late in the year to find them, though?” she said doubtfully.
The girl with the flowers, overhearing, turned to her with a friendly smile.
“There are very few left,” she vouchsafed. “I’ve been hunting everywhere for them. But you may find one or two over there.” She pointed to a distant slope.
Tony’s eyes followed her gesture. Then he glanced down at Ann inquiringly.
“Are you game for so long a walk?” he asked.
“I’m game for anything up in this air,” she assured him with conviction.
But, as was not infrequently the case, Ann’s spirit outstripped her physical strength. The slope indicated was much farther away than it appeared and “the going was bad,” as Tony phrased it. Blue gentians proved tantalisingly elusive, and at length, rather disheartened by their unprofitable search, Ann came to a standstill.
“I think I’m beginning to feel a keener interest in tea than gentians, Tony,” she confessed at last, ruefully. “It’s very contemptible of me, I own. But when I contemplate the distance we’ve already got to cover before we reach the hotel again, I feel distinctly disinclined to add to it.”
“I’ve let you walk too far!” Tony was overwhelmed with compunction. “Look here, sit down in this little hollow and rest for a few minutes before we turn back, while I just go a bit further and see if I can find you a gentian.”