“Yes. I should have done it, too, in her place.”
He glanced round placidly. “It’s a right public place here, but—”
“Don’t be afraid. I’m not going to.” And before she disappeared within the portals of the department store she gave him one last thrust. “It’s not so public up in the library. Perhaps if you happen to be going that way?”
She left her communication a fragment, but he thought it worth acting upon. Among the library shelves he found Laska deep in a new volume on domestic science.
“This ain’t any kind of day to be fooling away your time on cook-books. Come out into the sun and live,” he invited.
They walked past the gallows-frames and the slag-dumps and the shaft-houses into the brown hills beyond the point where green copper streaks showed and spurred the greed of man. It was a day of spring sunshine, the good old earth astir with her annual recreation. The roadside was busy with this serious affair of living. Ants and crawling things moved to and fro about their business. Squirrels raced across the road and stood up at a safe distance to gaze at these intruders. Birds flashed back and forth, hurried little carpenters busy with the specifications for their new nests. Eager palpitating life was the key-note of the universe.
“Virginia told me about the Peltons,” Laska said, after a pause.
“It’s spreading almost as fast as if it were a secret,” he smiled. “I’m expecting to find it in the paper when we get back.”
“I’m so glad you did it.”
“Well, you’re to blame.”