Ann felt her throat contract as she recalled what the little blue flower had so nearly cost. Her eyes filled in spite of herself.
“Good heavens! Don’t cry over it!” Tony laughed carelessly. He had recovered his usual bantering manner of speech which yet always seemed to hold an undercurrent of bitterness. “It’s not worth that. See, I’ll chuck it away, so that it can’t remind you of the unpleasant shock I gave you this afternoon.”
He tossed the flower over the edge of the ravine. For an instant it seemed to hover in the air like a blue butterfly. Then it sank slowly out of sight.
“Here endeth the first lesson,” commented Tony.
“Lesson on what?”
“On trying to get things which an all-wise Providence has considerately placed out of your reach.” Without giving her time to reply, he continued: “Give me your hand—no, you must”—as she hung back. “I’m not going to have you risking this ledge again alone.”
He extended one hand behind him, and, recognising the uselessness of argument, Ann yielded and laid hers in it. Somehow she was not altogether sorry to feel that friendly, human grip. In single file they made the perilous return journey along the narrow track, emerging at length on to safe ground. Ann withdrew her hand with a sigh of relief. It was good to feel that they were out of danger at last.
“I think we shall have to hurry if we are to catch our train,” she said, keeping determinedly to the practical side of affairs. She felt she did not want to discuss their adventure. It was too vividly impressed upon her mind and had all too nearly ended in disaster. It seemed as though, the wings of Death had brushed her as he passed by.
Tony pulled out his watch.
“Eight, as usual,” he replied. “We shall have to sprint. And I’ve done you out of your tea, too,” he added remorsefully.