CHAPTER V

THE VISITORS' BOOK


It was quite true. They were caught like rats in a trap, and Ann's heart
sank. She had lived long enough to know that there are always a certain
number of censorious people sufficiently ungenerous and narrow-minded to
make mischief out of any awkward happening, no matter how innocently it may
have occurred.

"Can't you think of any way out, Tony?" she said at last. "I--I don't seem
to know what to do." She looked round her vaguely, feeling confused and
unnerved by the awkwardness of their predicament.

"There's not a chalet within reach, or I'd go off there for the night,"
answered Tony, adding with a twinkle in his eyes: "And although I might, of
course, sleep outside, if you preferred--on the top of the Roche d'Or, for
instance!--I'm afraid it wouldn't help matters much, as my frozen corpse
would require about as much explaining away as the fact that we've stayed
the night here."

He had never felt less like joking, but he was rewarded by seeing a faint
smile relax the strained expression on her face.

"Don't worry, Ann," he pursued, tucking a friendly arm into hers. "No one
need ever know. But I could kick myself for landing you into this mess.
It's all my fault. If I hadn't gone fooling about at the top of that ravine
and come to grief we should be buzzing comfortably homeward in the train."