"When she belongs to him--but I don't belong to you, baby Paul. You,
for the day, belong to me--and are my guest!"

"Very well, then, we won't talk about it," he said, resigned by the
caress in her words. To belong to her! That was something, if but for
one day.

"Only it must never come up again, this question", she
insisted. "Should we spend more hours on this lake, or other lakes--or
mountains, or rivers, or towns--let us speak never of money, or
paying. If you only knew of how I hate it! the cruel yellow gold! I
have heaps of it--heaps of it! and for it human beings have always
paid so great a price. Just this once in life let it bring happiness
and peace."

He wondered at the concentrated feeling she expressed. What could the
price be? And what was her history?"

"So it is over, our little breeze," she said gently, after a
pause. "And you will tease me no more, Paul?"

"I would never tease you!" he exclaimed tenderly. And, if he had
dared, he would have taken her hand.

"You English are so wonderful! Full of your prejudices," she said in a
contemplative way. "Bulldog tenacity of purpose, whether you are
right or wrong. Things are a custom, and they must be done, or it is
not 'playing the game,'" and she imitated a set English voice, her
beautiful mouth pursed up, until Paul had to use violent restraint
with himself to keep from kissing it. "A wonderful people--mostly