"All right," answered the lady, nodding, and gripped her bludgeon
crosswise behind her back with two hands. She was so surprised at the
sight of the millionaire in the wood, that she could scarcely speak.

Satisfied that she grasped the situation, Pine turned to his friends and
spoke at length in fluent Romany. He informed them that he had some
business to transact with the Gentile lady who had come to the camp for
that purpose, and would leave them for half an hour. The man evidently
was such a favorite that black looks were cast on Miss Greeby for
depriving the Romany of his society. But Pine paid no attention to these
signs of discontent. He finished his speech, and then pushed his way
again toward the lady who, awkwardly for him, was acquainted with his
true position as a millionaire. In a hurried whisper he asked Miss
Greeby to follow him, and led the way into the heart of the wood.
Apparently he knew it very well, and knew also where to seek solitude
for the private conversation he desired, for he skirted the central
glade where Lambert's cottage was placed, and finally guided his
companion to a secluded dell, far removed from the camp of his brethren.
Here he sat down on a mossy stone, and stared with piercing black eyes
at Miss Greeby.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded imperiously.

"Just the question I was about to put to you," said Miss Greeby amiably.
She could afford to be amiable, for she felt that she was the mistress
of the situation. Pine evidently saw this, for he frowned.

"You must have guessed long ago that I was a gypsy," he snapped
restlessly.