"I have only been waiting for some one stronger than I to determine my own departure, so I include myself among the refugees. And Hamlen will go with me, won't you, my friend?"
Hamlen held up his hand deprecatingly. "I must complete my sentence of exile," he said with finality.
"Have you heard anything from New York?" Cosden inquired. "I left orders not to cable."
"The market is bad, and liable to become worse."
"Then my vacation is over, too. How about the trolley project?"
"Another postponement. I'll give you the details later."
"Mr. Hamlen has invited us to have tea with him to-morrow afternoon as a farewell celebration, and I have accepted for all."
"Not a farewell, Mrs. Thatcher," Huntington corrected, looking across at Hamlen. "There are some souls to whom we never say farewell. If he won't come with us now it simply means a brief postponement. This friend of mine cannot come into my life as he has done these weeks and then go out of it again. He and I have already lost too many years of the companionship which should have been ours; now together we must make up for lost time."
Hamlen looked at him gratefully but did not answer. In single file the little party walked along the narrow edge of the pool, down the steps and back to the hotel. Cosden manœuvered so that he had a word with Edith before they separated.
"I sha'n't let you be cross with me," he said.