waited on the brink of some unfathomable crevasse, and then
we all three cowered together and peeped down; the sides were green and
smooth and sinister, like a crack in the sea, but so close together that
one could not have fallen out of sight; yet when Bob loosened a lump of
ice and kicked it in we heard it clattering from wall to wall in
prolonged diminuendo before the faint splash just reached our ears. Mrs.
Lascelles shuddered, and threw out a hand to prevent me from peering
farther over. The gesture was obviously impersonal and instinctive, as
an older eye would have seen, but Bob's was smouldering when mine met it
next, and in the ensuing advance he left us farther behind than ever.
But on the rock where we had our lunch he was once more himself, bright
and boyish, careless and assured. So he continued till the end of that
chapter. On the way home, moreover, he never once forged ahead, but was
always ready with a hand for Mrs. Lascelles at the awkward places; and
on the way through the woods, nothing would serve him but that I should
set the pace, that we might all keep together. Judge therefore of my
surprise when he came to my room, as I was dressing for the absurdly
early dinner which is the one blot upon Riffel Alp arrangements, with
the startling remark that we "might as well run straight with one
another."

"By all means, my dear fellow," said I, turning to him with the lather
on my chin. He was dressed already, as perfectly as usual, and his hands
were in his pockets. But his fresh brown face was as grave as any
judge's, and his mouth as stern. I went on to ask, disingenuously
enough, if we had not been "running straight with each other" as it was.

"Not quite," said Bob Evers, dryly; "and we might as well, you know!"

"To be sure; but don't mind if I go on shaving, and pray speak for
yourself."

"I will," he rejoined. "Do you remember our conversation the night you
came?"

"More or less."

"I mean when you and I were alone together, before we turned in."

"Oh, yes. I remember something about it."

"It would be too silly to expect you to remember much," he went on after
a pause, with a more delicate irony than heretofore. "But, as a matter
of fact, I believe I said it was all rot that people talked about the
impossibility of being mere pals with a woman, and all that sort of
thing."

"I believe you did.'"

"Well, then, _that_ was rot. That's all."

I turned round with my razor in mid-air,

"