"You did it for me," cried Ann quickly. Now that the first shock of
realisation was over she was recovering her usual cheery outlook on things.
"You mustn't blame yourself. It's no one's fault. It's just--"

"The cussedness of things," vouchsafed Tony, as she paused.

"Yes, Just that. Well"--she gave her shoulders a slight shrug as though she
were shaking off a burden--"we may as well make the best of things. At
least we shall see the sunset up here. It's supposed to be rather
wonderful, isn't it?"

"I believe the sun_rise_ is the special thing to see. You'll have to get
up early to-morrow, ma'am." He paused a moment, then went on with frank
admiration: "Ann, you're a real little sport! There isn't one girl in
twenty would have taken this business as well as you have. They'd have
been demanding my head on a charger."

"It wouldn't be any use making a fuss about a pure accident," she returned
philosophically. "Let's just enjoy it--the sunset and the moonrise and
everything else. Oh! I do hope they'll give us a decent dinner! You did us
out of our tea by tumbling over the precipice--don't make a habit of it,
please, Tony!--and I'm simply starving."

He nodded.

"I'll go and order some grub--and book rooms." He paused uncertainly. "By
the way, I'll have to enter our names in the hotel register, I suppose?"

"Our names?" Ann flushed nervously. "Oh, you can't--I mean--"