They must have passed out within a few seconds of each other.
CHAPTER XL
BETTY DISCOVERS WHY SHE IS YOUNG
From the house Tug had brought matches with him. He gathered pine boughs and lit a fire upon the rock slab. The warmth of it went through them and restored their diminished vitality.
“The water’s going down fast,” Betty said. “See the rock. It’s several inches lower.”
“Yes. Merrick will be here soon.”
Except for Ruth and Mandy, the girl did not care how long he was. She was young, and in love. Beside her sat the man who was to be her mate. A flash of the eye brought happiness. A touch of the hand thrilled.
Even when she did not look at him, she was acutely conscious of his presence. Without turning her head she saw the line of the razor stroke where the golden down ceased on his tanned cheek, was aware of the gallant set of the fine head on strong shoulders. Oh, it was good to be near him, to know that out of all the millions of men in the world she had found her mate. There was in her a strange, a primitive, instinct to accept his leadership, a desire to be subject to his wishes and commands.
She smiled. This was not like her. Perhaps it was a merely temporary aberration.
“Are we really all alike?” she asked herself, trying to understand this love-complex that already was changing her point of view. “We want to be free, want to express ourselves. We’re thinking of nothing else. And then—enter a man. Our house of cards comes toppling down, and we don’t care a bit. Sometimes, of course, he isn’t the right man. Then—tragedy, I suppose.”
The young philosopher, looking at her hero, was very sure he was the right man. Her certainty went beyond evidence, beyond faith.