Then he began another fruitless
search for a topic of conversation, fearing that if he allowed the
slightest pause she would send him away. But all his thoughts were
of her, it seemed. His tongue would frame nothing but eager
questions--all about herself. At last in desperation he
volunteered to get another orchid; but the suggestion met with no
approval. There were no more, she told him, of that kind.
"Maybe we can find one," he said, hopefully.
"Thank you. I know them all." She was looking at him now as if
wondering why he did not make a start, but wild horses could not
have dragged him away. Instead of picking up his gun, he inquired:
"May I rest a moment? I'm awfully tired."
"Certainly. You may stay as long as you wish. When you are rested
the little path will bring you out."
"But you mustn't go!" he exclaimed, in a panic, as she turned
away. "Oh, I say, please! You wouldn't do a thing like that?"
"I cannot speak to you this way, sir." The young lady blushed
prettily.
"Why not, I'd like to know?"
"Oh!" She raised her hand and shook her head to express the
absolute impossibility of such a thing. "Already I have been
terrible. What will Stephanie say?"
"You've been nothing of the sort, and who is Stephanie?"
"She is a big black woman--very fierce.
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