I heard Hollingsworth say to-day that he meant to take his yacht
over to the Mediterranean--"

She released herself. "If you think that--"

"I don't. I almost wish I did. It would be easier, I mean." He
broke off incoherently. "I believe your Aunt Virginia does,
though. She somehow connotes Hollingsworth and the
Mediterranean." He caught her hands again. "Alexa--if we could
manage a little hole somewhere out of town?"

"Could we?" she sighed, half yielding.

"In one of those places where they make jokes about the
mosquitoes," he pressed her. "Could you get on with one servant?"

"Could you get on without varnished boots?"

"Promise me you won't go, then!"

"What are you thinking of, Stephen?"

"I don't know," he stammered, the question giving unexpected form
to his intention. "It's all in the air yet, of course; but I
picked up a tip the other day--"

"You're not speculating?" she cried, with a kind of superstitious
terror.

"Lord, no. This is a sure thing--I almost wish it wasn't; I mean