st upon them. His were the eyes of one
accustomed to the silent distances.

"Takes your breath away, rather, doesn't it? All that color?" said
Fanny, her face toward the blaze.

"Almost too obvious for my taste. I like 'em a little more subdued,
myself." They were atop a dune, and he stretched himself flat on the
sand, still keeping his bright brown eyes on lake and sky. Then he sat
up, excitedly. "Heh, try that! Lie flat. It softens the whole thing.
Like this. Now look at it. The lake's like molten copper flowing in.
And you can see that silly sun going down in jerks, like a balloon on a
string."

They lay there, silent, while the scarlet became orange, the orange
faded to rose, the rose to pale pink, to salmon, to mauve, to gray.
The first pale star came out, and the brazen lights of Gary, far to the
north, defied it. Fanny sat up with a sigh and a little shiver.

"Fasten up that sweater around your throat," said Heyl. "Got a pin?"
They munched their sandwiches, rather soggy by now, and drank the last
of the grape juice. "We'll have a bite of hot supper in town, at a
restaurant that doesn't mind Sunday trampers. Come on, Fan. We'll start
down the beach until the northern lights begin to show."

"It's been the most accommodating day," murmured Fanny. "Sunshine,
sunset, northern lights, everything. If we were to demand a rainbow and
an eclipse they'd turn those on, too."

They started to walk down the beach in the twilight, keeping close to
the water's edge where the sand was moist and firm. It was hard going.
They plunged along arm in arm, in silence. Now and again they stopped,
with one accord, and looked out over the great gray expanse that lay
before them, and then up at the hills and the pines etched in black
against the sky. Nothing competitive here, Fanny thought, and took a
deep breath. She thought of to-morrow's work, with day after to-morrow's
biting and snapping at its heels.

Clarence seemed to sense her thoughts. "Doesn't this make you feel you
want to get away from those damned bins that you're forever feeding?
I watched those boys for a minute, the other day, outside your office.
Jove!"

Fanny dug a heel into the sand, savagely. "Some days I feel that I've
got to walk out of the office, and down the street, without a hat, and
on, and on, walking and walking, and running now and then, till I come
to the horizon. That's how I feel, some days."

"Then some day, Fanny, that feeling will get too str