* * * * *
The Skeptic got the pillar between himself and the departing pair. His
face was convulsed with mirth. He slapped his knee. "I said he'd soon
know," he chuckled, holding himself in with an effort, "but I didn't
think he'd find out quite so soon. Smoke and ashes--but that was quick
work!"
He turned about and looked up at the Gay Lady. "Will you go fishing?" he
inquired, still chuckling.
"No, thank you," responded the Gay Lady, smiling at her embroidery
without looking up.
"Will you go fishing?"
The inquiry was directed at me.
I shook my head.
The Skeptic fell into an attitude of mock despair. Then he sat up. "I'm
going to go down and hide behind the big tree at the bend," he declared.
"I want to see Philo when she----"
The Gay Lady spoke to me. "Do you think I'm getting that K too heavy?"
she asked.
The Skeptic laughed, and strolled away--not in the direction of the
trout stream.
Dahlia and the Philosopher came back just as luncheon was served.
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