"Well, we're on a road. It must go somewhere."
Keith, with some difficulty, managed to awaken the horse. It sighed and resumed its plodding.
"I'm afraid we're lost," confessed Keith.
"I don't much care," confessed Nan.
"He seems to be a perfectly safe horse," said he.
By way of answer to this she passed her arms gently about his neck and bent his lips to hers. The horse immediately stopped.
"Seems a fairly intelligent brute, too," observed Keith, after a few moments.
"Did you ever see so many stars?" said she.
The buggy moved slowly, on through the night. They did not talk. Explanations and narrative could wait until the morrow—a distant morrow only dimly foreseen, across this vast ocean of night. All sense of tune or direction left them; they were wandering irresponsibly, without thought of why, as children wander and get lost. After a long time they saw a silver gleam far ahead and below them.
"That must be the bay," said Keith. "If we turn to the right we ought to get back to town."