"It's the moon!" they cried together.

The cold moon it was who had come up red and angry from some Olympic
quarrel and hung like a copper fire behind the forest branches. Up and
up she sailed, but paling as she rose from red to orange, from orange to
the yellow of hay; and at yellow she remained, when the last branch had
dropped past her face of light, and she was drifting in the height
of the sky.




CHAPTER XIII


THE INN

They drove back to the village and down to their isolated villa, and
here on the road they passed ones and twos of the Section walking
into supper.

"How little we have thought out your evasion!" whispered Stewart at the
wheel, as they drew up at the door: "Get out, and go and dress. I will
take the car up to the garage and come back."

Fanny slipped in through the garden. What they called "dressing" was a
clean skirt and silk stockings--but silk stockings she dared not put on
before her brief appearance at supper. Stuffing the little roll into her
pocket she determined to change her stockings on the boat.