"I don't care if it does. Besides, it won't. I'll pretend I'm a goldfish, and the mountain torrent is my home."
Bill grinned at that.
"Ye goin' to be a goldfish, too, Mr. Trent?"
"I'll roll up here by the fire."
"I'll take the cabin myself, then. Can ye keep awake till I clean up camp, or shall I shake down some beds now?"
"No, no, you go ahead with the housekeeping. We won't go to bed for hours," Bob answered.
She led the way up the trail a bit, Paul following.
"Bill has real tact—he's there when you want him, and only then."
"It is as near ideal as it can be," Paul assented. "You and I, and the world away," he added.
"There isn't any world—there's just earth and sky and God," said Bob softly.