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The speaker was a middle-aged man with horn-rimmed spectacles. His companion was much the younger of the two. The latter bowed to Thane, who had taken a position before the fireplace and was regarding the strangers with interest. "I'll have to speak to Mrs. Vick," murmured the woman. "I don't know as she would want Rosabel's picture printed in the papers."
"I suppose you know they've found her, Auntie? In the river." "Yes. Ed told me. Now, don't talk about it. Here's some hot coffee." "Never mind my coat. I'm too tired. You know about Courtney Thane?" "I only know they're hunting for him. There's a man out in the kitchen. Is is it in connection with Rosabel's death?" "No. Thank you, Auntie. That feels better. I haven't had it off since morning.
As he did so, his gaze fell upon Courtney, who was on the outer edge of the little group surrounding the car. After a moment of indecision, the young man pushed his way forward, an expression of deep concern in his eyes. "Morning, Courtney," greeted the older man, extending his hand. "I'm glad to see you. I suppose you've heard about Rosabel?" Thane shook hands with Rosabel's father.
"Does it burn?" asked Dorothy in surprise that Tavia should really carry out her threat to make her cheeks redder than Rosabel's. "A little," admitted Tavia. "Don't you want to try it?" "Not for worlds," answered Dorothy. "Since you say it will not wash off how are you going to explain it?" "Sunburn," promptly answered the other, with a subtlety surprising to Dorothy.
"Maybe I AM lost," replied the girl, and Annie, failing to see anything cryptic in the words, laughed gaily at the quaintness of them. "Come on," she said, thrusting her arm through Rosabel's, "let's go back home. There's nothing doing here. And that wind cuts through one like a knife. Gee, it's fierce, isn't it?" "I don't want to go in yet," protested Rosabel, hanging back. "Let's wait awhile.
I believe, after all, it is best for girls to keep busy at practical things. Tavia has never been trained." "Now," said Tavia, who had been fixing before the pretty dressing table, "I'm ready. But I have a plan to help Nat out with Rosabel's complexion test." "Oh, he was only joking," exclaimed Dorothy. "He wouldn't be so rude." "It's no harm, I'm sure; I've done it lots of times.
Parts of sentences, a word here and there, his own name, filtered through the veil, and were lost in the chaos of his own thoughts. He was not thinking of Rosabel's letter. If he could only catch Cale off his guard, just for a second or two! A swift leap, a blow, and but a lightning glance out of the corner of his eye killed the thought even as it was being created.
Rosabel's long auburn tresses floated on the breeze, and Leopold could not help looking at her all the time, thinking that she was the prettiest girl in the whole world. He was very attentive to her, and when the yacht anchored in the harbor of Rockland, she permitted him to hand her into the boat.
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