"Quicksands."
"Do you think I'm in danger of sinking?" she asked. "And is it impossible for me to get out alone, if I wished to?"
"It will be easier with my help," he answered. "You're clever enough to realize that—Honora."
She was silent awhile.
"You say the most extraordinary things," she remarked presently.
"Sometimes I think they are almost—"
"Indelicate," he supplied.
She coloured.
"Yes, indelicate."
"You can't forgive me for sweeping away your rose-coloured cloud of romance," he declared, laughing. "There are spades in the pack, however much you may wish to ignore 'em. You know very well you don't like these Quicksands people. They grate on your finer sensibilities, and all that sort of thing. Come, now, isn't it so?"
She coloured again, and put her horse to the trot.