"Big enough for us," says I. "Here's a good place to sit down too."
We settles ourselves in a snug little corner that gives us a fine view
of the fog.

"How silly of you to come away up here," says Vee, "just because--well,
just because."

"It's the only wise move I was ever guilty of," says I. "I feel like I
had Solomon in the grammar grade."

"But how did you happen to get here--with Payne?" says she.

"Hypnotized him," says I. "That part was a cinch."

"And until to-day you didn't know where we were, or anything," says she.

"I scouted around a bit yesterday afternoon," says I. "Saw you too."

"Yesterday!" says she. "Why, no one came near all the afternoon; that
is, only a couple of lobstermen in a horrid, smelly old boat."

"Uh-huh," says I. "One was me, in disguise."

"Torchy!" says she, gaspin'. And somehow she snuggles up a little
closer after that. "I didn't think when I wrote," she goes on, "that
you would be so absurd."

"Maybe I was," says I. "But I took it straight, that part about it
bein' stupid up here. I was figurin' on liftin' the gloom. I hadn't
counted on Payne."