She often found herself absorbed by watching the tall grass undulate from the cave’s central doorway as solitary hunters prowled for buffalo and stag on the plain. And you promised to tell me. I wonder——” He turned slowly round. It was very much like a real house, with one central stalagmite that looked like a column and a waterfall that served when she wanted to bathe. “I hope,” said Miss Stanley, with dignity, and turned doorward with features in civil warfare. At the farther end of the Lodge, the floor was raised to the height of a couple of steps; whence the whole place, with the exception of the remotest corner of the angle before-mentioned, could be commanded at a single glance. “Are you free tomorrow? Should I call?” He asked. Her confession was still unmade. She looked in the glass over and over as she checked for lint and makeup streaks.
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