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"Now tell me about Canada. I can listen, but I can't talk."
In the full tide of his most eloquent passages, Barry found himself
growing incoherent at times, for his mind was in a state of oscillation
between the wonderful and lustrous qualities of the brown eyes that
he remembered flashing upon him in the light of the fire, and that
maddening little curl over the girl's ear.
In an unbelievably short time, so it seemed to him, they came upon the
rear of a marching column.
"These are your men, I fancy," she said, "and this will be your camp on
the left; I know it well. I've often been here."
She swung the car off the road into an open field, set out with tents,
and brought the car to a stop beside an old ruined factory.
"This, I believe, will be the best place for your purpose," she said,
and sprang from her seat, and ran to the ruin, flashing her torchlight
before her. "Here you are," she said. "This will be just the thing."
Barry followed her a few steps down into the long, stone-flagged cellar.


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