He seemed more wizened, paler, and intense as a
violin string screwed to the snapping point; there was none of the
lordly tolerance of Nick about him; he was like a bull terrier compared
with a stag hound. And only the color of his eyes and his hair made her
make the comparison at all.

"What could be better?" she said when they checked their horses on a
hilltop to look over a gradual falling of the ground below. "What could
be better?" The wind flattened a loose curl of hair against her cheek,
and overhead the wild geese were flying and crying, small and far away.

"One thing better," said Donnegan, "and that is to sit in a chair and
see this."

She frowned at such frankness; it was almost blunt discourtesy.

"You see, I'm a lazy man."

"How long has it been," the girl asked sharply, "since you have slept?"

"Two days, I think."

"What's wrong?"

He lifted his eyes slowly from a glittering, distant rock, and brought
his glance toward her by degrees. He had a way of exciting people even
in the most commonplace conversation, and the girl felt a thrill under
his look.

"That," said Donnegan, "is a dangerous question."

And he allowed such hunger to come into his eye that she caught her
breath. The imp of perversity made her go on.

"And why dangerous?"

It was an excellent excuse for an outpouring of the heart from Donnegan,
but, instead, his eyes twinkled at her.

"You are not frank," he remarked.

She could not help laughing, and her laughter trailed away musically in
her excitement.

"Having once let down the bars I cannot keep you at arm's length. After
last night I suppose I should never have let you see me for--days and
days."

"That's why I'm curious," said Donnegan, "and not flattered. I'm trying
to find what purpose you have in taking me riding."

"I wonder," she said thoughtfully, "if you will."

And since such fencing with the wits delighted her, she let all her
delight come with a sparkle in her eyes.

"I have one clue."

"Yes?"

"And that is that you may have the old-woman curiosity to find out how
many ways a man can tell her that he's fond of her."

Though she flushed a little she kept her poise admirably.

"I suppose that is part of my interest," she admitted.

"I can think of a great many ways of saying it," said Donnegan. "I am
the dry desert, you are the rain, and yet I remain dry and produce no
grass." "A very pretty comparison," said the girl with a smile.

"A very gr