ht, I
suppose--and hope. And the De Witt Turners?" Madame Zattiany had no
respect whatever for the Lucy Stone League, and invariably forgot the
paternal names of the emancipated young wives of the men she found
interesting.

"They can't get away. Gora, yes; and Rolly Todd, the Boltons, the
Minors, Eva Darling, Babette Gold, Gerald Scores."

"Miss Darling is rather a nuisance. She flung her arms round me the
other night at the Minors' and left a pink kiss on my neck. She was
very tight. Still, she is amusing, and a favorite of Din's."

"I would have submitted the list to you in the first place, darling,
but I knew I should have to take what I could get on such short notice.
The only two I really care about are Gora and Todd. But there wasn't a
moment to lose. I wish to heaven I'd thought of it before, but that
play had to be finished, and it looked as if the date of your sailing
might be postponed, after all."

He had no intention of letting her suspect that the wonderful plan was
just eight hours old.

"I understand," she said. "When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning. Eight-thirty. Grand Central."

"Tomorrow morning!" She looked almost as dismayed as Mr. Dinwiddie had
done, then laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "Of course it can be
done--but----"

"Anything can be done," he said darkly. And then, having got his way,
he suddenly felt happy and irresponsible, and made one of his abrupt
wild dives at her.

XLVI

The "camp," a large log house, with a great living-room, a small room
for guns and fishing-tackle, two bedrooms, besides the servants' wing,
downstairs, and eight bedrooms above, stood in a clearing on the
western shore of a lake nearly two miles long, and about three-quarters
of a mile wide in the centre of its fine oval sweep. The lake itself
was in a cup of the mountains, whose slopes in the distance looked as
if covered with fur, so dense were the woods. Only one high peak,
burnt bare by fire, was still covered with snow.

The camp was in a grove of pines, but the trees that crowded one
another almost out into the lake among the lily pads were spruce and
balsam and maple.

The party arrived at half-past nine in the evening, and crossed the
lake in a motor launch. It was very dark and the forest surrounding
the calm expanse of water looked like an impenetrable wall, an
unscalable rampart. There was not a sound but the faint chugging of
the motor. The members of the par