‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. There were two. The old lady in the antimacassar said, abruptly, “Ah! you young people, you young people, if you only knew!” and then laughed and then mused in a marked manner; and the young man with the narrow forehead and glasses cleared his throat and asked the young man in the orange tie whether he believed that Platonic love was possible. I have never told you so, or Sydney, but I can sing—rather well. Everything was fresh and bright, from the kindly manners of the Frutigen cobbler, who hammered mountain nails into her boots, to the unfamiliar wild flowers that spangled the wayside. Danger, the most terrible she had ever faced, was substantially in this room.
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