abundant waves of her hair.

"How long would it take you, Ronnie?" "Well--including the journey out,
and the journey back, I ought to have a clear seven months. If we could
get off in a fortnight, we might be back early in November; anyway, in
plenty of time for Christmas."

"Why do you say 'we,' darling?"

"Why not say 'we'? We always do, don't we?"

"Yes, dear. For three happy years it has always been 'we,' in
everything. We have not been parted for longer than twelve hours at a
time, Ronnie. But I fear Central Africa cannot be 'we.' I do not feel
that I could go out there with you."

"Helen! Why not? I thought you would be keen on it. I thought you were
game to go anywhere!" Amazement and dismay were in his eyes.

She rose slowly, went over to the mantel-piece, moved some little
porcelain figures, then put them back again.

When at length she spoke, she steadied her voice with an effort.

"Ronnie dear, Central Africa is not a place for a woman."

"But, my dearest girl, a woman arrives there in my story! She crawls
into the long grass with the man she loves, and disappears. Our
missionary's bride did it. Where a woman could not go, _I_ must not go
for my local colour. Oh, I say, Helen! You won't fail me?"