"And Monterey."

"Another of my places. But I want to go to the Yosemite. You couldn't
motor me there."

"I could guide you. I've known horses longer than I've known motors. And I
know the Yosemite. Once I got hurt in a kind of accident. I wasn't good
for much, for a while afterward. And as I couldn't do any work I went and
loafed in the Yosemite Valley. I'd always wanted to go. It was grand. But
it would be heaven to see it again with y--with an angel."

Angela traced the steel embroidery on a gray _suède_ bag which lay on the
table. She had got it the other day to serve as understudy for the gold
bag which was "taboo" for public use at present. She was glad that the
forest creature did not know, and never would know, that she had secretly
bought back his gold bag. If he found out, it might be his turn to
misunderstand.

"How were you hurt in an accident?" she asked, for the sake of diverting
the talk from angels.

"It was in a fire," said Nick.

"Oh! On your ranch."

"No. In San Francisco."

Her interest grew. "In the great fire?"

"Yes."