"Never mind," she said resolutely; "only we can't walk far on the beach; I could never keep them on in the dune sands. Are you ready, O my tempter?"
Like a pair of guilty ghosts they crossed the shadowy garden, skirted the dark orange groves, and instead of entering the broad palm-lined way that led straight east for two miles to the sea, they turned into the sinuous hammock path which, curving south, cut off nearly a mile and a half.
"It's rather dark," she said.
They walked for a few minutes in silence; and, at first, she could not understand why he insisted on leading, because the path was wide enough for both.
"I will not proceed in this absurd manner," she said at last—"like an Indian and his faithful squaw. Why on earth do you—"
And it flashed across her at the same instant.
"Is that why?"—imperiously abrupt.
"What?" he asked, halting.
She passed her arm through his, not gently, but her laughing voice was very friendly:
"If we jump a snake in the dark, my friend, we jump him together! It's like you, but your friend Shiela won't permit it."