By the way," he drawled on, "how goes it with those dear
souls, Barney and Old Jimmie?"
She ignored his question.
"Please! Who asked you not to tell?"
There was a sudden glint of good-humored malice in his eyes. "Mind if
I smoke?"
"No."
He drew out a silver cigarette case and opened it. "Empty!" he
exclaimed. "Excuse me while I get something from the house to smoke.
I'll be right back."
Without waiting for her permission he stepped out of the arbor and she
heard his footsteps crunching up the gravel path. Maggie waited his
return in pulsing suspense. Her situation had been developing beyond
anything she had ever dreamed of; she was aquiver as to what might
happen next. So absorbed was she in her chaos of feeling and thoughts
that she did not even hear the humble symphony of the hundreds of bees
drawing their treasure from the golden hearts of the roses; and did
not see, across the path a score of yards away, the tall figure of Joe
Ellison among the rosebushes, pruning-shears in hand, with which he
had been cutting out dead blossoms, gazing at her with that hungry,
admiring, speculative look with which he had regarded the young women
upon the beach.
Presently she heard Hunt's footsteps coming down the path. Then she
detected a second pair.
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